


Thompunzel and the Frog

by MagicQuill42



Series: CinderPat Universe [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: A frog/rat crushing on a human, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Don't tick off witches kids, Frenemies to friends to lovers, I'm gonna be honest these tags are just me doing my best, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It'll make sense as you gain context I promise, M/M, Oh also true love i guess????, Poor Life Choices, Spells & Enchantments, True Love, Witch Curses, fairytale AU, it doesn't end well, light body horror in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-12-26 00:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicQuill42/pseuds/MagicQuill42
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple errand. Go out, get this bread, and come home. Remy honestly could not have expected that rainy day to involve magic spells, a peculiar shut-in son of a witch, and a run in with his royal in laws. And there is, unfortunately, more where that came from.Patton and Roman had their happy ending. It's someone else's turn now...





	1. Chapter 1

_**Once Upon a Time...** _

 

**Eight**

“Mommy?” Thomas asked. “Why can’t I go outside?”

His mother turned her scaled head and regarded him.

“The outside world is dangerous, Pet,” She said softly. “It’s full of wicked human beings who will never approve of you.”

Thomas tilted his head, confused. “I thought I was human?”

“Yes, but I, your mother, am not. For the grand crime of existing,the two of us would be hunted down and slain. They will cut us both to ribbons as soon as look at us.” She explained.

“Oh. Okay.”

**Twelve**

“Can I at least play in the grass?” He begged. “It’s just outside and nobody will see me, you can even keep watch!”

“No,” His mother said sharply. “I cannot risk the spells that keep you safe simply because you wish to frolic like a wood pixie simpleton.”

Tears trickled down Thomas’ cheeks. “I’m not a simpleton! And I’m sure the wood pixies aren’t either! You just hate anything that isn’t exactly like you!”

“No that is how they are!” His mother growled.

“Well, then you’re just like them!” Thomas yelled.

“Do not,” His mother thundered. “ _ **Dare** _to compare me to those horrible human beings. I am nothing so ignorant as them. To suggest as such would be an insult to not only witches, but to all of dragon kind.”

**Thirteen**

Thomas sniffled. “I hate you. You and this stupid cottage! I hate you both!”

“Pet...” His mother warned, lips pinched and pointing downwards .

“No, I hate it!” He yelled. “I hate being trapped all the time and never having anyone to talk to! I hate you and your stupid rules! I just want to go outside but I can’t and I hate it!”

“Thomas say that word one more time and there will be conse-.”

“I HATE IT!”

His mother rose to her full height and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. She unceremoniously threw him into his bedroom and used her magic to ensure his curtain-door stayed shut.

**Fifteen**

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

**Sixteen**

“You aren’t my real mother, are you?” He asked.

“What is a mother?” She mused. “Someone who gives birth to you, or someone who raises you?”

“Raises you, I guess.” He said. “...Why did you raise me?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Call it… justice.”

**Nineteen**

“Mom?”

She raised her head curiously in his direction. “Yes?”

“I think I like guys.” He said. “Not girls.”

“Alright.” she said. “Why is this relevant?”

Thomas shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you should know, in case…”

“In case what?” She asked, condescendingly. “In case you leave and want to get married?”

Thomas flinched. “I- No. Just… I just didn’t want to- I wanted someone to know, I guess.”

**Twenty-Two**

“I just thought…” Thomas trailed off, staring at his reflection in the mirror. “I mean… it’s my birthday so I was just wondering if we could-”

He sighed to himself. “No. It- it’s too risky. She’d never approve no matter what argument I make. Forget a picnic, I’ll just… I’ll ask her for some more of those cookbooks.”

**Twenty-Four**

“Could you tell me about my birth family?” He asked. “Not that I don’t love you, I’m just… curious, that’s all.”

“They were horrendous people, Thomas.” She said, flipping through her book. “They hated the fae with a passion unparalleled. You are quite lucky I got you out of there before they had a chance to poison your mind as well.”

Thomas rolled over onto his stomach. “Yeah, but what… what else?”

“Don’t lay on the floor.” She chastised.

He sat up, climbing onto a nearby chair instead. He let it be quiet for a minute before speaking again.

“I make up stories about them sometimes.” He said.

His mother looked up sharply. “Stories? Why?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I don’t have a lot else to- I’m just curious is all. And you- well I know it’s dangerous to know too much, but I like to think about what they were like.”

“They were villains, Pet.” She said dismissively. “If you can’t understand that yet then perhaps you should rewrite your stories.”

“Yeah…”

She clicked her tongue gently. “And you wonder why I think you aren’t ready...”

**Twenty-Seven**

“Is the world ever going to be safe enough for me to leave?” He asked.

“Perhaps someday,” She said. “But I do not expect it to be anytime soon. I know it may not be ideal, but at least you’ll be safe. At least you’ll be alive.”

 

_But when will I get to live?_


	2. Chapter 2

“Stupid Dad,” Remy said, kicking a rock out of his way.

He’d been sent off with a basket , a bit of money and little more than a good luck to actually help him get to the marketplace. Part of Remy knew it wasn’t freaking Patton’s fault that Dad was making him do all the chores now that his favorite servant had married a prince. Most of him wanted to blame Patton anyway.

Remy had tried so hard too! He’d wooed the pants off that prince as hard as he could, but it hadn’t worked. And now he was married to Remy’s twerpy step-brother and they were working together to try and legalize the fae.

Ho-flipping-rray.

He kicked another rock.

Logan wasn’t faultless here either, really. If he hadn’t known that stupid fairy then Patton wouldn’t have met said stupid fairy and he wouldn’t have had help getting to the ball, never would have met the Prince, who would then fall for Remy, which would let them get married instead of that little raggedy-muffin, which had the added bonus of making Remy’s dad happy, and preventing his life from being in total shambles. So basically if Logan had never met the fairy Remy’s life would be perfect. That was how it worked, right?

Remy’s scowl deepened and he kicked a tree. Everything was stupid. 

He glanced around, looking another, stupider tree to kick when he noticed the path was missing. He blinked for a second, then looked again. He half expected the path to mysteriously appear in front of him, another magical prank life played on him, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Great!” He said, throwing up his arms. “First Patton puts my life in ruins, then I have to find the stupid market to please my dumb Father, who made me his footboy for no reason, and now I’m lost in these awful, disgusting, and horrifically gross woods! This is, like, just perfect. Cherry on top, really.”

His scowl deepened and he turned to go the way he came. Only… Was that actually the right direction? He’d curved a bunch on his way here, rights and lefts all over the place. It was about as straight as he was.

“Great.” He said. “Just great. At least it can’t get much worse…”

***

Remy’s scowl deepened as he trudged through the mud, rain pouring down on him from the unforgiving heavens above.

All he wanted was a nice place to stay dry in, was that too much to ask? Apparently so, because he was having zero luck finding one. Actually, considering his life so far he might just have zero luck altogether.

He’d dropped the basket at some point, too. So his father would be mad about that, and would just complain about the fact that he was late and dripping onto the carpet.

“‘Oh Remy, what put you in such a state, dearest son?’” He said in his best impression of his father’s voice. “Oh nothing, Dad. Just almost got killed by lightning. ‘Well, be sure not to do that next time. And do take care not to track in any mud!’”

He scowled. “I’ll show him. I’ll track mud all over the place. I’ll-”

A large roll of thunder cut him off and the rain worsened. He shivered a little and wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. He needed to find some shelter and quick, or he’d probably die of hypothermia or something.

He scanned his immediate surroundings, standards significantly lower than they had been moments ago. There! There was a bit of rock overhang that looked deep enough to slide into for a few hours.

Remy shuffled over and nestled himself into the alcove, recoiling slightly as he hit the wet rocks. Remy peered through the darkness, still not seeing an end to it. It turned out to be a lot deeper than it looked.

He glanced back out to the raging storm. It didn’t look like it was going anywhere anytime soon. Surely it’d be just as dank and stormy if he did a little exploring. Plus, it would probably be even dryer deeper in the cave.

Curiosity piqued, Remy headed in.

Fifteen steps in, Remy was convinced it was a tunnel of some kind, but if the faint sounds of thunder were anything to go by, he didn’t really have any better options. So on he trudged, deeper and deeper.

After about ten more minutes of pointless, wet walking, the tunnel gained some light. But it was dim and strangely green. Remy’s brow furrowed as it grew brighter and he cast a quick glance at where he’d come from.

The entrance was far away and almost out of sight by now, but he could still tell there was no light coming from it, and he could still hear the faint sounds of thunder echoing from the start of the cave.

Remy shivered. Whatever was casting that light was bound to at least be warmer than a stupid, creepy cave that had no business being so creepy or so stupid.

He kept walking.

The light grew brighter and brighter. And all at once he was faced with a wall of green ivy, filtering golden sunlight.

Gently, Remy lifted the ivy away and stepped through.

Instantly, he lost all sense of breath.

He had been present at a royal ball, and various events among those of high rank. He had seen royals and courtly folk decked out in their best and brightest colors, vibrant reds and yellows and greens swirled together in a headache inducing motley.

And each one of them paled in comparison to this.

To call it vibrant would be a disservice. Something as green as the grass under him should not have been allowed to exist. Nothing as red as the tulips lining this grotto ever had existed before, and he was fairly certain the buttercups weren’t even real.

The crem de la cremé, however, was the small cottage in the middle that looked like it had trotted right out of a storybook and into real life. A perfectly thatched roof that had never been touched by the elements, and perfect white bricks bordered by perfect dark wood. It was… well, perfect.

And collectively? It was utterly stunning.

A low growl sounded behind Remy, breaking him from his thoughts and making his hair stand on end. He turned slowly, facing a pair of sharp green eyes.

A woman’s voice, sharp and dangerous, hissed from the shadows. It sounded vaguely serpentine, yet vaguely feminine. Not unlike the monsters Logan had read to him of long ago.

“And what, pray tell, brings one of your kind to my home?”

Remy swallowed. “I uh… The rain. I was just- I got lost?”

Remy wasn’t normally one to lose his tongue, but this woman, by what little he could see of her, radiated power. It sent every instinct in his body screaming for him to run. Especially when she growled again. He flinched, stepping back a hair’s-breadth.

“The rain,” She said mockingly. “I’m sure. Well, no matter to me. Humankind are all a bunch of rats.”

Remy trembled as a pale, slender hand reached through the darkness towards him. He felt frozen, like someone had glued his feet to the rocks below.

And she began to chant. “TahT… ekiL… tusJ, kcalb sa kcalb, ruf eht eviG. Taf ybab yht fo eeht mirT. Kcab eht dneb dna senob eht tsiwT.”

**Remy felt his insides twist. Felt them Literally twist inside of him- His organs shoved against each other and his bones cracked. He cried out in pain and wind rushed in his ears. His vision tunneled, then went white. Then black. White again.

His skin started prickling, itching worse than when he’d gotten curious about a fire ant colony. He cried out again, but it came out as more of a squeak.

Before he had time to reflect on that, however, he was being stabbed. Everywhere. By a million different knives at once. No part of his body was free of this pain. He lay on his back, gasping as he tried to remember what air felt like.

**Then, all at once, it stopped. He could breathe and all traces of pain had vanished.

He sat upright dizzily, only to fall forward onto his… legs. His front legs. His fuzzy front legs.

Remy squeaked and looked towards where the woman, the witch, had been. Quickly he realized he had to look up. And up and up.

He craned his neck to try and see her face, but he only got as far as her raven-dark corset before he felt his neck pop. He dropped his eyes back to the ground, feeling himself start to tremble in alarm.

She laughed. “There. Now everyone can see you for what you truly are, son of man.”

Remy’s eyes widened and he slowly raised his hands- his paws to his face. A pocket mirror dropped onto the ground and against his better judgment, Remy looked into it.

And there, where he should have seen his broad shoulders and stunning brown eyes… was a tiny black rat.

Remy could hardly move. How could he explain this to his father? Could he explain this to his father? And what would he do if he did get the point across? Would he care? Would he sentence him to a fate worse than servitude? Could he even live like this? What kind of life would that be?

A slender hand picked him up. Too shell-shocked to even think properly, Remy let it happen. The witch lifted him to her face and sneered, her statuesque features twisted into a look of hatred.

Without another word she tossed him over her shoulder and into the cave. Remy landed hard on his right shoulder, probably busting it up, but he was far too panicked to think of that now. The pain bursting along his leg and spine was a non-issue, really.

Ignoring the pain and his sore muscles he took off down the tunnel, running back to the entrance as fast as his legs could carry him. He only slowed as his now grotesquely large ears picked up the sounds of rain.

The thunderstorm. Still going strong and even more dangerous now that he was… transmogrified. If he took one foot out there he’d be at risk of being, well, a drowned rat. He smothered his own hysterical laugh, scolding himself for finding anything humorous in the situation.

He looked back to the other way, where the grotto had been.

He could still see the ivy curtain where he was. It was unobscured by any threatening silhouettes, so the witch had probably left. But that didn’t mean going back was any safer. If she caught him again she would probably kill him.

But then again, that wasn’t any deader than he’d be if he went back out into the storm. And besides, maybe if he died, his dad-

“Nope. Not thinking about that.” He said aloud.

The sound of his own voice startled him, but he almost cried in relief. Whatever that stupid spell was had allowed him this one bit of humanity to cling to. And as long as he was careful… he probably wouldn’t be picked out of an entire crowd of rats.

Yup, that settled it. Remy did the closest thing to a heel-face turn he could manage and started back towards the witch’s grotto. After all, going forward was better than going back.

 

*****  
SHOUTOUT TO MY BEAUTIFUL BETA: @mariniacipher, WITHOUT WHOM NONE OF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE. Or at least not as coherent.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas sighed heavily and waved goodbye as his mother left. Again. She was gone a lot lately, but he knew it was important. Probably for potion ingredients.

Well, no matter! He needed to do a thorough clean of the tower anyway. If she wasn’t home then he didn’t have to work around or worry about what she was doing. And he could start with her room, too! Since she wasn’t in it.

He was halfway done with sweeping when he heard a small scratching noise. Curious, he tiptoed closer to where it seemed to be. It was coming from the cookie jar of all places.

Carefully, he lifted the lid. A large black rat stared up at him. He the lid flew out of his hands and he scrambled backwards. Half out of fear, half out of surprise. He shook his head and approached again, shivers crawling across his back like ants.

He lifted the lid once more, slowly. The rat stared up at him with an expression that could only be described as exasperation.

Thomas slammed the lid closed. Okay. So there was a rat in his cookie jar. Cool. Now he just had to… remove it. Fun.

He grabbed a nearby stewpot and nodded to himself shakily. He lifted the cookie jar again and tentatively peeked in at the rat.

It looked back at him with what looked like a cocked eyebrow.

“You actually gonna do something or should I get comfy?” the rat asked.

Thomas shrieked and scrambled backwards. He slipped and fell onto his backside. The lid flew out of his hand, which let the rat crawl out of the jar. Thomas floundered, trying to get upright and almost falling over himself doing so. He held the pot in front of him defensively, keeping it between himself and the rat in a poor attempt at looking intimidating.

“St-Stay back!” Thomas said. “I have uh- a pot… And I’m not afraid to use it!”

The rat regarded him with a snort. “Uh-huh. And just what are you gonna do with that pot, honey?”

Thomas faltered. “Um… s-something. Something you won’t like!”

“Right.” The rat said slowly. “Sure.”

Thomas huffed. “Well, if the pot doesn’t work I-I’m sure my mother has something in here for exorcisms!”

“I’m not a demon!” The rat said, putting an offended paw to it’s chest.

“Well you sure aren’t natural!” Thomas snapped back.

“Oh, no kidding!”

The rat scrabbled down the counter and over towards Thomas, who backed away quickly, still holding the pot in front of him. The rat rolled it’s eyes at that, but stopped, sitting on it’s back haunches.

“O-f-c I’m not natural, girl,” It said, long nose wrinkling. “Some witchy lady with horns zapped me into a rat’s body for like, literally no reason. I think it was trespassing or some shizz? I-d-k. She didn’t want me coming here, so I came here anyway to see if there was anything to reverse it.”

Thomas lowered the pot slowly. “Wait… So a woman with magical powers cursed you for trespassing. And your response was to trespass more?”

The rat sniffed indignantly. “Well when you put it that way it doesn’t sound like the brilliant plan that it actually is.”

“It‘s really not.” Thomas said, fiddling with the pot handles. “That lady was my mother, and if she catches you here she’ll do something a lot worse than turn you into a rat.”

The rat’s face dropped. “Oh. Well… If I can find a cure before she gets back, that won’t be a problem.” It’s eyes narrowed suddenly, voice growing guarded. “Unless you’re gonna slap some curse on me, too.”

Thomas’ face flushed. “No I- um…” He straightened his back. “Yes. I am going to curse you to look like a turtle unless you leave. Right now.”

The rat gave him him a flat look. “You couldn’t do that if you wanted, could you?”

Thomas sighed, posture sagging. “No. I couldn’t.”

The rat snorted. “Well, can you at least help me sort this mess out and get back to normal? Like, some magic herbs or something?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Curses have to be removed by spellcraft.” Thomas squinted at the rat. “Don’t you know anything about magic?”

“Uh, no? Duh? Magic is illegal, gurl. Couldn’t know a thing about it if I wanted. Which I don’t! Seeing as this is the second time it’s ruined my entire life!”

Thomas blinked. “Illegal? And what do you mean, second?”

“Nuh-uh.” The rat huffed. “No tragic backstories, missy. Fix. Me.”

“Okay, okay!” Thomas scrambled to his feet. “The sooner you’re out of my hair the better. And stop calling me a girl! I’m a guy, thank you.”

“Oh sorry.” the rat said, scampering after Thomas. “The hair threw me off. Most trans ladies I know grow their hair out super long. Never seen it this long, though. Or this… purple.”

Thomas flushed again and ignored the unsaid question in favor of digging out the map his mother had stashed in a drawer forever ago. He unfurled it onto the nearest table and the rat scampered up.

“Oh! I can see my house from here!”

He scampered to the far end of the map and pointed at a village. Thomas’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You live in Soleil?” He asked.

“Eh, outside of it a ways. In a manor up a lane.”

“How… did you get here?”

“Got lost.”

“You ended up in the Glowworm Woods, one hundred and thirteen miles away from Soleil… because you got lost?”

“I am not a clever man.” The rat said.

Thomas snorted. “Clearly. Okay so we’re here.” He poked the map. “I think. Roughly. And over here is a guy my mom always goes to for ingredients and stuff. At least, I think he’s around there somewhere. He should be able to turn you human again.”

“You think?” The rat asked, indignantly. “Roughly? Should? This is not the time for uncertainties, my man! Do you know where these things are or not?”

“It’s not that simple!” Thomas snapped. “I- I know where they are, but… kind of only in theory.”

If rats were capable of raising an eyebrow, this one did. “In theory?”

“I’ve kind of… never left this grotto?”

The rat blinked. “You what?”

“I’m not repeating that.” Thomas huffed. “You’re the one who said no backstories.”

“Yeah, to protect my own backside from YOUR probing nose.” The rat sniffed. “What, you’re like, twenty-two? And you’ve never left your own house? Dude. That’s so sad.”

“I’m turning twenty nine in a week.” Thomas grumbled. “And what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me is that I need someone cool to guide me around,” The rat said, tail lashing. “Not some lame-o shut in!”

“I’m not taking you anywhere!” Thomas yelped. “I’ve never left before, why would I leave for some sassy rat?”

The rat rolled it’s eyes, an impressive feat when they were almost solid black. “Would it help if I said my dad is rich and can pay you back?”

“No.” Thomas said flatly, crossing his arms. “What am I supposed to buy out here?”

“Another good point from Captain Shut-In!” The rat exclaimed.

“Can you just leave, already?”

“How am I supposed to do that by myself?”

“I don’t care!” Thomas exclaimed. “Just LEAVE!”

They glared at each other for a minute before Thomas sighed.

“Look, I’m not exactly the best guide anyway, okay? Find someone else.”

“There… isn’t anyone else,” The rat said slowly. “Like I said, magic things are outlawed. And I’m already on pretty thin ice with the only fae I know so… I’m kinda on my own here. You’re my only help. Even if you are some long haired, purple, hippy, shut-in.”

“Wow, I’m so moved to help you now.” Thomas deadpanned.

The rat huffed. “Look, buddy, no one lives forever! You wanna spend it here, wasting away, or do you wanna live a little?”

“You really know how to sell a guy, huh?” Thomas sighed. “…You’re sure you don’t have any other option?”

The rat shook his head. “None.”

“Okay. Alright, fine.” Thomas said finally. “But I do want some payment.”

“Fire away, dude.”

Thomas blushed a little. “It sounds kinda stupid, but… I’ve kind of always wanted to go to a party. Like, I’ve read about them, but it’s kind of hard to throw a party when you’re all by yourself in the middle of nowhere with no friends. So… you take me to a party and I’ll help you change back. Deal?”

The rat stared at him for a solid minute. “Dude. A party? That’s it?”

Thomas blushed harder. “They always seemed like fun! And anyway, my birthday is coming up, so… why not?”

“No, I mean, like… there’s no fine print to this that imma regret later, right?” The rat asked.

“Not one. A simple exchange.”

The rat considered this. “Alright. Sure. I know just the party, too.”

Thomas extended a hand. “So we have a deal?”

The rat smirked and placed his paw in Thomas’ hand. “We have a deal.”

“Thomaaaaaaaas!”

Thomas yelped and grabbed the rat around the waist. He muttered an apology before stuffing him back in the cookie jar.

“Coming!” He yelled back.

He ran to the door and greeted his mother with a bright smile and a hug.

“Heeeey, mom.” He said. “‘Sup?”

His mother groaned. “How many times must I tell you not to shorten words? It is unnecessary and rude.”

“Sorry,” Thomas faltered.

His mother pat his head and breezed into the house without a further word. She started for the kitchen and Thomas ran to catch up with her.

He smiled awkwardly again. “So… how was the farmers’ market?”

“As dull as it ever is.” She said, drifting away from the kitchen. “Those idiots do not know their Water Lilies from their Stargazers. I do not trust them enough to buy more than the bare essentials.”

Thomas clicked his tongue. “Sounds rough. Um, why don’t you rest and let me worry about dinner?”

His mother narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning, Pet?”

“N-Nothing!” Thomas stammered. “I just… um-”

“If this is about our conversation earlier, I thought I told you to drop it.”

Thomas faltered. “I- no, Mom. I dropped it, I promise.”

“Good.” She said, sinking into the couch. “On the subject, have you thought up an actual birthday gift?”

Thomas glanced at the cookie jar and bit his lip. “Uh… you could say that.”

“Well what is it then?”

“Um…”

“Be succinct, Pet.”

“Sorry. Er- I was thinking just some new cookbooks? One with more of those pasta recipes you like?” He said. “I know it’s a long trip but it’s the best in the land just like you said. And if you leave tomorrow you should be back in time for my birthday.”

His mother regarded him, then sighed. “Very well. If that is truly what you want.”

Yes, I would very much like for you to take a long trip, Thomas thought. Best birthday ever.

“Yes.” He said aloud. “It’d be better than some… party, anyway.”

His mother clicked her tongue sympathetically and beckoned him over. He walked over and she pulled him into an embrace, petting his hair gently. He relaxed a little at the familiar touch and felt a twinge of guilt at what he was planning.

“Don’t fret, Pet.” His mother soothed. “I will take the trip for you. Now come, what were your dinner plans?”

 

 

SHOUTOUT TO MY BEAUTIFUL BETA: @mariniacipher, WITHOUT WHOM NONE OF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE. Or at least not as coherent.


	4. Chapter 4

Thomas watched his mother’s back fade into the distance before running for the cookie jar. The rat looked up at him, disgruntled.

“This isn’t exactly the most comfy place to be for ten hours, you know.” it said.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Neither is the grave.. Which is where you’d be if my mom saw you out here.”

The rat huffed and crawled out with a stretch. “So, is your name, like, ‘Pet’ or what? Cause tbh, if that’s your name I’m giving you a nickname. That one’s weird.”

Thomas blinked. “What?”

“I heard the dragon-lady call you ‘Pet’ a whole bunch, so is that your name or are you actually her pet?”

“Oh!” Thomas shook his head. “No, my name is Thomas. Pet is just a nickname, I guess. I’m not really fond of it, but moms, you know?”

The rat hummed. “Creepy! My name is Remington Astook, but you had best just call me Remy or I’ll claw your eyes out, sweetheart.”

Thomas rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

Remy stretched again. “So, are you gonna pack or are we just traveling as-is?”

Thomas startled a bit. “Um, I thought I’d just grab my cloak. The guy we need is only about a half day’s walk from here.”

Remy shrugged. “Listen it’s not my business, seeing as I’m currently rat-ified, but you may want to at least grab some coinage to buy food. Not to mention that party I’mma take you too. It’s not gonna be a half-day and even if it was, we’re going to more than one place and neither of us knows where we’re going.”

“That’s,” Thomas hesitated. “A good point.”

He rummaged around before withdrawing a small satchel and stuffing it with food, a small drawstring bag of savings he’d stashed in the couch, and the map. Remy squinted at it before dragging aside some fabric scraps and setting them inside. He snuggled in between them with a wry chuckle. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Remy huffed. “I have tiny little rat legs, do you want me falling behind?”

Thomas shrugged. “Guess not. Just don’t eat everything.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it, dearie.”

Thomas rolled his eyes again and headed for the door. His legs locked up in the doorway. He stared out of it, his breath shortening.

Remy poked his head out of the bag and raised an eyebrow at him. “You ok, man?”

Thomas took a deep, steadying breath and nodded. This was nothing. One step. He could do this. It didn’t matter if he never had before. Or if he was going to be in the worst trouble of his life when is mom finds out.

Oh no.

It was just one step. Why couldn’t he just take one step?

“Dude.” Remy’s voice voice broke through Thomas’ thoughts. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Thomas took another, deeper breath. Nodded again. And stepped outside. 

It felt… anticlimactic. His mother didn’t swoop in from the sky and shove him inside. He wasn’t instantly euphoric. He felt the same way he had inside: apprehensive and excited, and a little nauseous. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy about finally leaving? All he felt was scared. Maybe the happiness would come later. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he would tear himself up from the inside out until he finally ran back home, shut the blinds, and prayed his mother would never know.

“Dude, let’s go,” Remy urged from the bag. “We’re wasting daylight.”

Thomas shook himself, imagining the nerves flinging out of him, before heading towards the tunnel he’d seen his mother head out of countless times.

It was wet. Inside the tunnel was far more damp and dark than he would have expected. And outside of it wasn’t much better.

Remy poked his head out of the satchel and groaned loudly.

“It’s still raining?” He exclaimed. “Ugh. What a downer.”

“Still?” Thomas asked. “Was it… raining when you entered the grotto?”

Remy squinted up at his hesitation, but shrugged. “Yeah, but it was a lot heavier than it is now.”

Thomas hesitated. “…Is it dangerous?”

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Not really? I mean when there’s a lot of it, yeah, but this is just barely drizzling. Harmless.”

Thomas licked his lips and Remy stared up at him.

“You do know what rain is, right dude?”

Thomas huffed. “Of course I know what rain is! I’ve just… never seen any before.”

Remy snorted. “Shut-in. Well there’s no time like the present to find out, huh?”

Thomas swallowed and nodded. He stepped into the rain, flinching a little when the first drops hit him. But soon enough he relaxed into the feeling. It felt… nice. The rain hit him and then melted away, leaving only the feeling of being refreshed behind. It was cool and cleansing.

He giggled a little and set the bag down so as not to disturb Remy. He held his arms out and twirled, his braided, violet hair whipping out behind him and his cloak fanning out. He let the rain hit his cheeks and smiled up at the gray sky before turning back to look at Remy.

The rat was perched on the satchel, looking at him curiously, an unreadable expression on his face.

Thomas felt his face heat up a little. He cleared his throat.

“Um, sorry. It’s just… fun.”

“You’ve really never been in the rain, have you?” Remy hummed.

Thomas winced. “Is it that obvious?”

Remy shrugged. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal, babe. Just a bit of an eyebrow raiser, is all.”

***

After hours of travel, Thomas discovered three things. One: rain was far more fun in short doses. Two: Trees made decent shelter for a moment as long as there wasn’t lightning. Three: Remy did not know how to shut up.

The entire day of walking he talked on and on. About the weather, about tea, about food, about how awful it was to be a rat. Honestly, Thomas had no idea how someone was able to talk so much without saying anything at all!

Though he had to admit, it was nice to have someone to listen to. He found himself getting lost in Remy’s endless stream of words. Occasionally offering input, or showing that he was, in fact listening. There was no semi-tense silence, no fear that he’d grievously messed up. Just Remy, talking into eternity and Thomas, listening to him and enjoying subjects he knew nothing about.

Remy was in the middle of another tirade about iced tea when he suddenly stopped mid sentence.

Thomas looked down at him with an amused smile. “Cat got your tongue?”

Remy gave him a flat look before peering upwards. “Hey Thomathy? I know we don’t know where we’re going, but do you have anyway to tell which direction we should be heading?”

Thomas shrugged. “Not… exactly?”

Remy paused. “Thomas… Do you mean to tell me that we’ve been wandering around the woods with only a vague idea of where we’re supposed to go?”

“No, actually, I’d rather not tell you that.”

Remy groaned. He dragged the map out and crawled down from the bag. Thomas crouched next to him, though he wasn’t sure what he could glean from scribbled-on trees.

Remy stared hard at the map before smacking it with one of his paws.

“Okay,” he said authoritatively. “I have, like, no idea where we are.”

Thomas scoffed. “Great. Thank you for that bit of wisdom.”

“Well it’s not like YOU know either!”

“Of course I do! We’re,” Thomas faltered. “We’re… exactly where we’re meant to be?”

Remy rolled his eyes so hard Thomas thought they may pop out of his head.

“Right,” He drawled. “We’re where we’re meant to be. What a cop-out.”

“Well I don’t see you offering any solutions, Rat-Boy!” Thomas snapped.

“Oh you want a solution, do you?”

“Yeah!”

“Let it be known, world! Lord Purple Hair wants a solution!”

“Do you have one or not?”

“How’s this: Pick a direction and walk in a straight line until you hit something!”

“I CAN’T DO ANYTHING STRAIGHT!”

“ME EITHER!”

They stared at each other a moment, huffing. Thomas snorted. Then Remy. Before they knew it they had both dissolved into laughter.

Thomas lay on the grass to catch his breath, staring up at the setting sun. He heard Remy come over and sit near his head.

“Crazy day, huh?”

“Crazy day.” Remy agreed. “But at least we’re both gay.”

Thomas snorted again. “At least we’re both gay.” He paused. “I’m sorry I called you Rat-Boy, I know you can’t exactly help it right now.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I made a dig at your hair.”

“It’s okay,” Thomas said. “I think we need to make a pact to not yell anymore. You’ve got some good ideas, after all. Like that pick a direction thing.”

“Nope.” Remy said matter-of-factly. “All my ideas are trash. I was telling you to run into a tree.”

“Oh.”

“Besides. Pacts have never worked out well for me.” Remy continued with a yawn.

“Oh?” Thomas said. “Why’s that?”

Remy shrugged. “Just haven’t.”

“That’s cryptic.” Thomas snorted.

“Hey, we agreed on no backstories,” Remy joked. “I don’t ask about the hair, you don’t ask about my tragic and sordid past.”

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means.” Thomas said.

“Nuanced.”

“Or that one.”

Remy snorted. “Probably not, I wasn’t one for book smarts, either.”

“Why not?” Thomas cried. “Books are amazing! You can go anywhere in a book, learn anything! I mean, heck, I wouldn’t know half as much about anything as I do without books.”

“Books and I just never got along, okay!” Remy snapped. “I’m not some nerd, everything I need to know I can learn irl.”

Thomas blinked, but shrugged. “Agree to disagree, I guess.”

Remy nodded and crawled into a loose part of Thomas’ braid, curling into a ball.

“Let’s stop for the night, okay?” He said. “We’ll find the sorcerer dude in the morning.”

Thomas nodded. “Alright. Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”


	5. Chapter 5

Remy was awake. Which was already his least favorite state to be in. But what was worse is he was being poked awake on his aching shoulder. He grunted roughly and rolled over, nearly falling out of his… bed? This was not where he lived. This was… frizzier.

He cracked an eye open, the last two days slowly leaking back into his brain. Thomas was glaring at him, unamused.

“Can you please get out of my hair so we can follow this guy?” Thomas asked.

Remy shook his head lightly and crawled to sit on Thomas’ shoulder instead. He stretched with a yawn.

“Thoma-lama-thy,” He said. “Please tell me we aren’t about to follow an old rando who lives in the woods.”

“Okay,” Thomas said. “We’re following a young fairy who happens to be exactly who we need back to his cottage in the forest.”

“Uh-huh. And uh, you’ve met him before, I take it?”

Thomas faltered. “Well… no. But he seems nice enough!”

Remy snorted. “Thomas, plenty of people ‘seem nice enough.’ Right up until they stab you between the ribs.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Well pardon me for believing in trust.”

“Your friend is right.”

Remy jumped, almost falling off Thomas’ shoulder at the unexpected face suddenly in his.

“You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” The stranger said cheerfully. “But there are some benefits to blind faith, I suppose. Like two sides of a coin.”

Remy swallowed hard. “Uhhhhh… sure.”

The stranger grinned and pranced ahead of them, giving Remy a full view of his blue-green wings. Remy turned to Thomas very slowly.

“Please, please, please tell me that’s not the guy we’re following.”

Thomas grinned. “Hey Leo, wait up!”

***

Leo’s cottage was… quaint, to put it nicely, and exhaustively small and cluttered to put it honestly.

It was one room that looked as though Leo had layered several other rooms on top of it. Every available surface was covered with various nick-knacks and various magic-looking whatnots. It seemed whatever couldn’t fit on something flat got hung from the ceiling in a cluttered mess.

The floor wasn’t even safe from this horader’s tirade, being covered in so many rugs that Remy watched Thomas foot sink an inch into it. He wrinkled his nose, thinking of the clean, bare floors and spacious walls of his own house.

Some people had no taste.

Thomas, it seemed, was one of these people, gaping at the hovel as if it was the most splendid thing he’d ever seen.

“It’s so charming!” Thomas exclaimed.

Remy sniffed, thinking of the regal ballroom in which Patton had swept a prince away from him.

“I’ve seen better.”

Thomas flicked his ear before turning to join Leo at the table, which was so full of junk it looked like a trash heap. He set Remy down on top of it and Remy unhappily made himself at home on top of a jar of buttons.

“What is all this, anyway?” He asked grumpily.

“Oh, it’s just my hobby.” Leo said with a laugh. “I think humans are so interesting. The way they vibrate when they get cold, the things they say when someone sneezes!” He laughed again. “It’s all just so fascinating. Which is why it’s a real treat to come across two humans in my neck of the woods! You don’t really see that every day.”

“Uh yeah, I’m sure.” Thomas laughed awkwardly.

Remy flicked an ear at him.

Leo smiled widely. “So, what brings the two of you here anyway?”

“Well- uh… It’s- okay long story short, Remy here got himself turned into a rat and you were the only one we’d heard of that might could reverse it.” Thomas explained.

Leo exhaled heavily. “That’s… kind of a tall order. Do you know what spell was used?”

They turned to Remy expectantly. He huffed, tail lashing involuntarily.

“She said some gibberish and everything went to crap. No, I don’t know the spell.”

Thomas winced sympathetically and Leo hummed thoughtfully.

“Well there’s only so much I can do, especially without knowing the spell. But I might be able to make it into something more easy to reverse.”

“Oh?” Thomas asked. “Like what?”

“Well,” Leo leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “You’d be surprised about the number of spells that involve transformation, and nearly each one has a clause in order to break it, since most of them are about learning a lesson.”

Leo stood and crossed the room, setting his hands on a think book in the middle of a precarious stack. He yanked and Remy felt his heart drop, but the top of the stack merely slammed into its bottom without so much as an extra wobble.

While Remy was processing… that, Leo walked back over to them and opened the book, gently thumbing through the pages.

“Dog transformations, for example,” He said, still flipping through the book. “If someone turns you into a dog, they think you need to learn a little loyalty, and you can reverse it by swearing fealty to someone. Llamas, though, can be more difficult. Those tend to be lessons in humility and can only be reversed by selfless acts. Then you have things like bear transformations which can be borderline obsessively complex and abstract, but usually tie into love in one form or another. But I think what we need here is a bit more traditional.”

He found the page he was looking for and turned the book to Thomas and Remy with a smile. It was a picture of a frog, with a bunch of words Remy didn’t pretend to understand crowding the rest of the page around it. Now why this fairy guy would show them a frog was-

“Oh heck no!” Remy exclaimed, the suggestion finally clicking into place. “I am not letting you turn me into something green and slimy and awful! No sir, no ma’am, no mx! Not on your dadgum life!”

Thomas frowned and Leo threw his hands into the air defensively.

“Look, I don’t know what internal issues you have to work on, here,” He said. “Or if you even have any-”

“I don’t.” Remy huffed.

“-But,” Leo continued. “It’s a lot easier to twist a spell than to reverse it. And this is the easiest one for the two of you to do the leg work on, since all it takes is the kiss of royalty. I even have a friend in the palace who knows the prince and can help you once you’re inside.

“I promise,” He gave Remy a small smile that he probably thought was reassuring. “I’m not doing this out of cruelty. I genuinely want to help.”

Remy narrowed his eyes. “Uh-huh. And what’s in it for you?”

Leo shrugged. “The opportunity to help two humans?”

Remy narrowed his eyes further, the fur slightly obscuring his vision.

Leo huffed. “If I help the two of you, that’ll put me one step closer to Godfather status. Happy?”

Remy smirked. “Just what I thought. Everyone’s got an angle, huh?”

He ignored Thomas’ frown at that in favor of hopping down onto the book. He stretched a little, considering the frog in the picture beneath him. He looked up at Leo.

“And you’re sure that this one will be easier to reverse?” He asked.

Leo nodded. “Positive.”

Remy looked back down at the page, then up at Thomas. Thomas shrugged and nervously ran a hand through the end of his over-long braid.

“It’s your call.” He said. “I don’t really know much about spellcraft, but it makes sense that changing something is easier than undoing it entirely.”

Remy looked back at the page. The picture of the frog was mocking him with it’s cheerfulness, as if it was so much better to be a slimy green turd than anything else in the world. Not to mention this meant he’d have to find and kiss royalty, which, yes, a dreamy scenario, but it came at the cost of being warty and gross. Not to mention the only royals he even knew were married and probably wouldn’t take too kindly to seeing him.

But on the other hand, it meant a kiss from a prince and a better chance at getting back to his fabulous self.

“Alright sure,” He said at last. “Whatever. Just make it fast.”

Leo rolled his eyes playfully at that. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

The fairy lifted his hands, light forming between his fingers and Remy braced for impact. The light spilled out of Leo’s hands and twisted around Remy in surprisingly cold ribbons. Most shocking of all, Remy felt no pain as they enveloped him.

They turned and twirled around him effortlessly, and instead of the bone-cracking torture of his last transformation, it felt more like what he imagined his tunic felt when it shrunk in the wash. Tightening and becoming smaller, the seams of his being stretching, but not at the risk of popping.

When it all washed away, Remy was left feeling somehow sleepy by the whole thing. He looked down at what had been his hands, flinching in spite of himself at the flippers.

“I want you both to know that everything about this sucks.” He said.

They ignored him.

“If it’s not a bother, could you give us directions to the palace?” Thomas asked. “I don’t think either of us knows where we’re going.”

Leo nodded cheerfully. “I’ll do you one better! I’ll make you a map!”

Remy groaned. “We already have a map! One more is gonna be totes useless.”

Thomas smiled thinly and picked Remy up, ignoring his indignant- oh lord above Remy was croaking indignantly! Could this day get any worse?

Apparently so, since Thomas deemed fit to all but drop him into his bag.

“A magic map,” Leo continued. “It’ll direct you to where you need to go.”

“It’s not gonna talk, is it?” Thomas asked, voice muffled by the bag. “I really don’t need my so-called guide arguing with our map.”

Leo snorted. “That’s doable. Just a sec.”

Remy saw a faint shimmer through the bag, which probably meant more magic. He huffed slightly at getting stuffed in a sack while the ones in humanesque forms got to watch the stupid light show. Eventually the lights dimmed and he heard the faint rustle of paper.

“Here,” Leo said, sounding tired. “It should light up in the direction you need.”

A roll of paper was abruptly stuffed inside next to Remy.

“Thank you so much,” Thomas said. “If it means anything, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so deserving of a Godfather status.”

“It means everything.” Leo said. “Stop by again sometime, okay? Maybe we can have tea.”

Thomas laughed and Remy snickered a little at the idea of Leo, Thomas, and his mother all sitting down for tea.

“We’ll have to see.” Thomas said. “Goodbye!”

“Bye! And travel safe!”

***

“Thomas?” She called. “I apologize for returning so soon, but I seem to have forgotten…”

She trailed off, neither child nor voice thereof greeting her. Cautiously, she called for him again. When no one responded she fought back a small surge of emotions. Irritation being the first and foremost.

She cast a small, low range spell, one that never failed to draw Thomas to her. And yet, he still failed to appear. She tried it again. And again. And still he didn’t show.

Her anger boiled. Where could he possibly be that such a spell would not reach him? Perhaps…

“Saidisni odenherpeR.” She chanted.

The floor under the doorway glowed in response. She growled at it and walked closer. The glow continued, out the door, into the meadow, and into the cave beyond. Her growl grew louder, twisting into a roar.

He had left. Despite her express instructions to never step a foot outside of the cottage. How dare he? Were his birthday wishes but a ruse to get her to leave? A cover? And after all she had done, caring for him, clothing and teaching him. The absolute, utter, impudence!

She dragged her hand through the air sharply, slicing it. A gust of fire cut into a nearby pot with a satisfying shatter and her anger cooled slightly.

She repeated the motion, cutting through dish after dish until only a singular pot remained. She thought briefly of Thomas’ face when he returned to find his cookware in pieces and felt a grim, smug sense of satisfaction. If he didn’t want his dishes broken he shouldn’t have left when he knew it would make her angry.

And he would return. She would find him. It would be all too simple.

She walked deeper into the cottage. It was time for a bit of potion making.


	6. Chapter 6

“Are we there yet?”

Thomas sent a playful glare to the top of his head. “Unlike the last two dozen times you asked: yes! The map puts us just outside of town.”

Remy perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Thomas moved the map so Remy could see from where he was perched. “Look, we’re just outside!”

Remy let out a small cheer. “Whoo! Human body here I come!”

Thomas snorted and lowered the map. “It looks like we’re headed right to the palace, too. So that’ll help us make some good time.”

Remy hummed. “Roughly how long do you think this’ll take?”

“That anxious to get kissed, huh?”

Remy snorted. “Well duh. But also if it takes all night for us to see Princey-poo we might have to press pause. It’s his birthday which means two things: we’re gonna be pushed down to priority two anyway, and I can uphold my end of the deal.”

Thomas blinked. “What?”

“C’mon, Thomathy. You’re smart, you can connect these dots. Big prince, heir to the throne, it’s his birthday… What generally follows those?”

“…No way.”

Thomas could practically hear Remy’s sassy grin. “Yup! A big ol’ party, my dude! Idk if we’ll be able to stick around the palace after the wake, but there’s always a big festival in the square anyway, so we can catch that, worst case scenario.”

Thomas scooped Remy off his head and bounced up and down excitedly. “You mean it? Like really?”

Remy laughed. “Yeah man! I told you I knew just the party.”

Thomas beamed and clutched the frog close to his chest in a facsimile of a hug. He bounced again. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“No prob,” Remy squeaked. “Can you return the favor by letting me breathe?”

“Sorry!” Thomas let him go, cradling Remy in his hands. Remy shook himself a little, it was overdramatic but not unexpected by this point. Thomas winced.

“Sorry, I just got excited.”

“It’s cool.” Remy wheezed. “Just need a sec. You keep walking, I’ll just catch my breath.”

Thomas chuckled a little and scooped up the map he’d dropped in his excitement. He followed the glittery trail on the paper, balancing Remy on his shoulder so both his hands were free.

“So, what do you plan on doing at the party, anyway?” Remy asked after a while.

Thomas shrugged. “I dunno… party… things?”

Remy snickered. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“Well,” Thomas blushed. “It’s not like I’ve had a lot of opportunities, you know? Not a lot of parties in the middle of the woods.”

“Oh I dunno. Pretty sure I saw some trees having a rave once.”

Thomas snorted. “Well, no parties I was allowed to, then.”

“Right.” Remy chuckled. “Well if I’m human by then, save me a dance will ya? I’ll be the one that’s devastatingly handsome.”

“Right, so I’ll keep an eye out for a mildly okayish rat, gotcha.”

Remy spluttered. “HEY!”

Thomas’ laughter died as he crossed through the tree line. They were almost a hundred feet away from a gorgeous castle, right out of one of Thomas’ storybooks. White marble towers flying red banners and intricate gold lattice work he could almost make out from where the two of them were standing.

He suddenly felt intimately aware of his hand-stitched clothing, of every patch of mud from last night and of every hole in his garments, standing out like a sore spot in his mind. Like an alarm bell declaring him unworthy to walk another step closer.

“Thomas?” Remy said softly. “You okay?”

Thomas closed his mouth with a snap and took a deep breath. “Y-Yeah. It’s just… we kept saying palace and castle over and over… but somehow I still didn’t think it would be this… big.”

He felt Remy place a sticky hand against his cheek, some of the dry dirt flaking off. “It’s okay. I’ll be right here the whole time. And it’ll be quick. An in and out typa dealio.”

Thomas took another breath and nodded. “Right. In and out.”

***

The map took them through a service entrance into the pantry, which the two assumed led to kitchen based on the sounds of someone bustling around. The clanking of pans in an empty room was a sound Thomas was familiar with, though this kitchen sounded a great deal larger.

Thomas was dubious about approaching someone at work, but Remy assured him that, worst case scenario, they’d be thrown in the dungeon and the prince would see to them later. Which wasn’t nearly as reassuring as Remy intended it to be, but it’s the thought that counts.

Thomas crept into the room, edging around a crate of fruit and carefully watching the man working in the kitchen. He was humming to himself, back to them and seemingly oblivious to their presence, occasionally making comments at the ceiling as if he expected it to respond.

Without warning, Remy took a sharp breath. “Oh no…”

Thomas froze, unfortunately stopping on a board that creaked for a comically long time. The man at the counter groaned.

“Okay, I know what you’re gonna say,” He said, voice unexpectedly sweet for such a heart-pounding situation. “But honestly, it’s hours until the party and I think I’ve finally perfected this lemon bar recipe!”

He turned, large smile falling as his eyes landed on Thomas and Remy. He tilted his head, brown curls falling adorably. A small glimmer sparkled in his eyes, almost looking like recognition before the man shook his head.

“You’re not Toby.”

Thomas laughed nervously. “Uh… nope.”

The man blinked. Silence permeated the air, each waiting for the other to say something.

“So…” The man finally said. “I’m guessing you’re not the hand Toby hired for tonight either?”

Thomas shook his head nervously.

The man bit his lip. “Can I at least have your name?”

“Um- T-Thomas. It’s Thomas.”

The man smiled gently. “Nice to meet you Thomas. My name is Patton. Now. Is there a reason you’re sneaking into my home or are you here for the heck of it?”

Thomas squeaked “Your home? You’re the prince?”

Patton snorted. “Not exactly. Prince Consort. Prince Roman is my husband.”

Thomas relaxed. Marginally.

“Oh. Okay. Um… sorry?”

“It’s okay,” Patton laughed. “I just wanted to know if you’re here to rob us blind or to sneak into the party.”

“Um, neither.” Thomas gulped. “You see, my friend here got cursed and the only way to break the curse is to get him kissed by royalty. We- uh- we didn’t really think this through all the way, but we were hoping your husband would be kind enough to break it for him?”

Patton gave the two a sympathetic frown, peering at Remy. Remy, uncharacteristically, stayed silent.

“Poor little guy.” He said softly. “Hey, Talyn? Are you any good at spotting curses?”

A small bat swooped down from it’s perch in the ceiling and landed on Patton’s extended arm. They looked at Remy closely, then nodded up at Patton. It was, strangely, not the weirdest thing Thomas had seen that week. In fact, the movements of the two were so fluid it looked almost natural. As if Prince-Consorts were bred in the wild to be bat perches.

“Well, it checks out.” Patton said.

He smiled at them again. It was a bright smile, like the sun itself had been woven into someone’s face. It bordered on fake-looking, with how bright it was.

“Come on!” Patton said cheerfully, starting for the door. “I’ll take you to Roman now. He may be busy though, so there might be a small wait.”

“That’s okay.” Thomas smiled back. “We’ve waited this long.”

***

Patton, it seemed, was a lot like Remy in that he seemed to despise silence. The difference was that Patton actually expected him to engage in the conversation, whereas Remy just prattled on and on as if it didn’t matter whether or not Thomas was listening. It was… nice. But it made him feel antsy, as if, at any second, he could give the wrong answer and be thrown out of the palace.

Not that he thought Patton would do that, but surely they were important enough to have Manner Police roaming around the castle. Or even worse, Patton would laugh. Thomas shuddered at the thought, and Remy placed a hand to his cheek again. The familiar touch was grounding and it helped Thomas actually follow what Patton was saying.

“… And then after the wake we-”

“Wait, ‘wake?’” Thomas winced at his own interruption. “Sorry, but… that’s the second time today I’ve heard that. I thought today was a birthday, why are you hosting a wake?”

Patton shrugged and pointed to a nearby painting. “It’s tradition, mostly. When Roman was born, the Queen and his twin brother didn’t last through the night, so the king holds a small wake before the beginning of each ball to mourn them.” Patton blushed. “This will actually be the first one I attend. I was a bit preoccupied last year.”

Thomas swore he heard Remy gulp.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Thomas said.

Patton shrugged. “I never knew them. Most people in the castle by now haven’t, but the King’s will is forged in iron and will not be changed by anyone.”

Patton’s eyes rolled and Thomas snickered. Apparently Patton didn’t get along well with his father in law.

He turned back to the portrait of the deceased royals. A lovely woman, presumably the queen, was cradling a small infant with a tuft of brown hair poking out of a red blanket. She looked… sad. Lonely, almost. As if her death was the only thing parting her from everyone she knew and loved. Her brown eyes pierced right through Thomas’ soul and seemed to scream at him to help.

He shivered, turning back to Patton.

“Still,” He said. “A mother is a terrible thing to lose.”

Patton softened. “I know. I lost my mother when I was quite young. It’s something Ro and I have bonded over, I guess.”

Patton cleared his throat. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to bring the mood down so much!” He laughed. “Luckily, we’re here!”

He threw open a pair of nearby doors, and led the pair into a massive room painted in various shades of gold and white. Nearly every surface that wasn’t decked out in those colors had some kind of blue or red on it.

Yet despite all the grandeur and elegance it also felt… lived in, somehow. There were divots in the couches where someone clearly spent time lounging. The pillows were crinkled as if they’d just been leapt off of. A small dagger was lodged in the ceiling, just to the left of the chandelier, indicating some kind of unfortunate mishap. You could tangibly feel that someone lived here, even if it was just a sitting room.

Patton smiled at the two of them, motioning for Thomas to sit. Thomas gingerly lowered himself onto the rich seating, scared of tracking mud onto the velvet.

“Ro’s in his study, but it’ll just take a bit for me to fetch him. If he’s not too busy, I’ll be out in a jiff with your curse cure!”

Patton skipped happily to a door on the left. As soon as the door shut behind him Remy let out a long gust of air.

“Ohhhhhh boy.” He said. “Oh boy ohboyohboy.”

Thomas gently moved him from his shoulder to his hands, tilting his head in concern.

“You okay?” He asked.

“No!” Remy said sharply, then shrunk a little as Thomas flinched. “I mean… no, I’m not okay. I thought I could do this but… i dunno, seeing him again? It’s brought back all these memories and stuff and, contextually? They ain’t great.”

“Seeing who again?”

Remy gulped. “You know last night I was telling you about my step brother? That’s him. Patton. And uh- I don’t think he’s gonna like seeing me after all. Maybe we should just bail. You can still get that party and we can… find another royal?”

Thomas frowned. “Remington Astook. I’ve known you for a grand total of three days, and not once in all that time have I ever taken you for a coward. You’re a no-nonsense, sass master of a frog. And even as a frog, not a single person I’ve ever met could hope to be half the man you are. If this Patton guy doesn’t like you then he’s missing out, and if he tries to do anything to you, I’ll punch him. I don’t care who he is.”

“You’re missing a lot of context for this situation,” Remy chuckled. “But… thanks.”

Thomas grinned devilishly. “What was that?”

“Nope, sorry. I only do sincerity once a day, come back later.”

The two chuckled.

They heard the door reopen and turned to face it. Patton looked at them regretfully.

“Sorry fellas, Roman’s a little busy right now.” he apologized. “Apparently there’s a lot of paperwork attached to everything, and he’s practically swimming in the stuff.” A sorrowful expression flitted across Patton’s face. “And on his birthday, too.”

He shook his head, the smile returning. “But, he wanted me to personally invite the two of you to this evening’s ball! He won’t be able to get to you until after, but you can at least enjoy yourselves until then!”

A small smile grew on Thomas’ face. “A- a ball?”

Patton nodded eagerly. “Yeah! You’ll have to clean off a bit first, but you look about the same height as Roman so you can borrow something of his! And we can probably find a ribbon or something for your froggy friend!”

Remy glared at Thomas, who laughed. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Patton.”

“You’re welcome!” Patton beamed. “Now, let’s get the two of you cleaned up! Why, I can barely see your faces through all that muck!”


	7. Chapter 7

Remy had previously seen Thomas in a grand total of two outfits, both of which were rather underwhelming in the looks department. A tight black shirt and tan pants when they first met, and a loose shirt, brown vest and matching pants while they’d been traveling. Thomas wasn’t bad looking in either of them, of course. It would take a conscious effort for Thomas to be bad looking in any way, shape, or form.

But after he’d been cleaned up and dressed up in the Prince’s spare outfit, hair done ornately and trailing down to his ankles, the barest hint of powder in the corner of his eyes… only one thought blared loudly in Remy’s head.

“Holy crap in a bucket, I am so incredibly gay.”

Thomas twirled a little in front of him, the smile on his face the only thing that could match the pure sunshine radiating off of him.

“What do you think?” He asked. “Is it too much?”

Remy coughed, trying to remember how words worked. “It’s okay.” Thomas’ face fell a little and Remy rushed to correct himself. “It’s more than okay, actually.” He said. “You look- really freaking good, Thoma-llama-thy.”

Thomas beamed and scooped Remy into a pseudo-hug. “Thank you!”

“No prob.” Remy playfully grumbled. “Now get me off you before my mucus ruins your pretty outfit.”

Thomas laughed and set him down. “You’re a dork.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at him. “Nu-uh. You are.”

“You.”

“Rubber and glue darling. Bounces off me and sticks to you.”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “I understood all of those words separately.”

Remy sighed dramatically, flopping over and draping a webbed foot over his eyes. “It is so hard to be friends with a shut in like you.”

Thomas snorted and poked Remy’s stomach. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon froggy pants. I slipped a little extra padding on my shoulder so it should be extra comfy for you to sit on. Unless you want to sit on my head again.”

“And ruin your ‘do?” Remy asked, sitting up. “Nah. Maybe the next ball.”

Thomas chuckled bitterly and placed remy on his shoulder. “Yeah right. This is my once in a lifetime event.”

“…Does it have to be?” Remy asked quietly. “You could just… not go back.”

Thomas paused, froze, hand lingering over the doorknob as a small shudder ran through his body. Strong enough that even Remy felt it.

“I can’t.” Thomas said finally. “She… she needs me. And besides, where else would I go?”

Remy thought for a moment. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted “It’s not like I’m excited to go home either, so I get that. But… I don’t know. Maybe we could just run off together?”

Thomas snorted again, but there was no humor in it. “And do what?”

Remy mentally ran through a list of his Adult Life Skills. It was soberingly short.

“We could… open a tea shop, maybe?” He said. “Sell all sorts of varieties in loose leaves or cups for them to drink in the shop. You can make the teas and I’ll sell them. And… and we’ll both meet some nice, strong boys to marry who’ll help us with all the heavy lifting. And you can cut your hair or grow it as you choose! And I can drink our stock behind your back and you’ll pretend to get onto me but we both know I’m going to do it anyway and we’ll go to balls every year, because where else are they gonna get the world’s best tea for such events? And we’ll just… live, I guess?”

Neither one of them talked for a long time after Remy finished. He could see the tears glistening in Thomas’ eyes at the half-imagined future. Compared to what each of them were returning to, it sounded near idyllic.

Eventually, though, Thomas swiped at his eyes and shook his head.

“I can’t,” He said, voice sounding broken. “I just… my mother- I can’t Remy.”

Remy sighed and patted his face reassuringly. “I know. …I guess I just don’t want this party to be your last.”

Thomas laughed wryly. “The great Remington Astook being selfless? Is it opposite day?”

“I take it back. I can and will bite you, Thomathy.”

Thomas laughed again, thankfully sounding more like himself this time. “That sounds more like the Remy I know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a self-centered prick, stop the presses. Now are you ready to party or not?”

Thomas opened the door and walked out, though he turned to Remy with a soft smile.

“I don’t think you’re a self-centered prick.” He said. “I think you’ve been pretending to be one, but I don’t think you are one.”

Remy sniffed. “Cool. No more heart to hearts or one of us is gonna ruin your makeup.”

Thomas snorted and started walking again. “Whatever you say, Remy.”

***

The palace was decorated as resplendently as always. Rich red banners flowed from the ceiling, complemented by the flowers on every surface with petals blooming white and fading red. What wasn’t covered in those colors was draped in gold. It was rich and elegant and… crowded.

The prince must have followed last year’s example and invited the commonfolk again. It made sense, goodwill and all that, but it meant that the ballroom was packed. More so than when Remy had snuck out to a rowdy bar during happy hour. The hubbub of voices made the air feel almost more crowded than the floor.

Remy winced. “Well, hopefully the dancing will make moving around a little easier. Wanna hit the snack table?”

Thomas didn’t respond.

“Thoma-llama?”

Remy looked over at him, concerned. Thomas’ face was pale and his chest was heaving so much that Remy was shocked he hadn’t noticed it from his perch. His eyes were small and he was starting to tremble.

“Thomas? Thom, listen to me, focus on my voice.” Remy said, trying to be firm, audible, and gentle all at the same time.

He wasn’t sure if it was working but hopefully it was the thought that counts. Thomas wasn’t looking at him, but his breath hitched just a little. Hopefully that meant he could hear him.

“Okay, just focus on me, Thomas.” Remy said slowly. “I need you to breathe for me, can you do that for me? Come on, I know you know how to do this. Suck in while I count to four okay? One. Two. Three. Four. Good. Now hold it, hold. Okay, now let it out.”

Thomas exhaled shakily and Remy did a mental count of seconds.

“Good.” He said when he reached eight. “Now breathe in again, okay? Four seconds. One. Two…”

They went through this a few more times until Thomas’ breath was regular and his hands weren’t trembling.

“…Six. Seven. Eight.” Remy finished. “Better?”

Thomas nodded. “Y-Yeah. So-sorry. I dunno what ha-happened.”

Remy gently put a hand against Thomas’ cheek. “I mean… dude, you’ve never seen this many people in your whole life combined. Plus they’re like, all packed in here like sardines. Your brain didn’t know what to do, so it decided everything was a threat and flipped out, it’s okay.”

Thomas barked a short, breathy laugh. “S-Sounds like me.”

Remy frowned. “Nah, man. It just sounds like a guy who’s never seen three million people in one place before.”

Thomas looked over at him and laughed softly. “…Thanks.”

“No problemo, mu-cha-cha. Now, you wanna go dance, or hang out by the snack table?”

Thomas thought for a moment. “Snacks. I-I don’t wanna-”

“Hey.” Remy interrupted. “It’s all good, dude. I got the munchies anyway.”

Thomas snorted as he started for the food. “You can’t even eat this stuff.”

“Yeah, but there’s bound to be fruit flies or something.”

“If you’re sure.”

They hung out at the table for a few, chatting. It was mostly Remy pointing out this or that attendee and making fun of them, while Thomas chastised him for being rude and pretended he wasn’t laughing.

The sound of trumpets drew their attention to the front of the room. The King, Prince, and Pa- the Prince Consort stood on a raised dais, their face indiscernible from the snack table, but their presence intimidatingly regal nonetheless. The trumpets sounded again and the king raised a hand, commanding utter silence.

“This ball is celebrating the birth of my son,” The king said, voice ever commanding of attention. “As you all know. However, the kingdom also experienced great tragedy this day. So let us take a moment to mourn the loss of our fair queen, Esmeralda, and our infant son, Paris.”

The room was even more silent than before. Some bowed their heads, others lifted them to the ceiling as if they would catch a glimpse of the dead royals peeking at them through the chandeliers. Remy looked over at Thomas, who looked like he was trying to look respectful even though he had no idea what was going on.

He was sure the effort was appreciated. Remy never had a clue what was going on either, but at least Thomas tried to hide it.

After what felt like an hour, the king spoke again. “The royal family thanks you for your silence. Now that the period of mourning has passed, let the ball commence!”

The king waved his arms and the music started up with a flourish. People began to swirl onto the dance floor in a wave of skirts and tails. Remy could just barely see Patton and the Prince hurrying down the stairs to join the fray. If his memory served, those two would be so wrapped up in each other that they likely wouldn’t reach him and Thomas until the end of the night. If not the next morning.

Love was dumb that way, he supposed.

A nearby throat cleared and Remy looked over. A handsome gentleman with blonde hair and dark skin was smiling down at Thomas. Remy instantly hated him. The man bowed and offered Thomas his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, voice as sickeningly smooth as milk chocolate.

Thomas’ cheeks turned pink and he glanced over at Remy. His eyes were nervous, but positively twinkling at the attention from the man. Remy couldn’t think of a reason to take that away from him.

“Go,” He mouthed, waving a webbed hand at Thomas. “Get him!”

Thomas suppressed a smile and bowed, accepting the man’s hand. “It would be my pleasure.”

The man grinned, teeth an eye straining shade of white. His fingers wrapped around Thomas’ and he placed his other hand on Thomas’ waist before twirling him off to the open floor to dance. Remy got one last look at Thomas’ starlight-bright face before he was lost in the throng.

He slumped. He couldn’t blame Thomas for leaving. The whole reason they were even here was so Thomas could have the night of his life. That meant dancing with a dozen handsome strangers, not a single familiar frog. Though granted, Thomas had only known Remy for a handful of days, so they weren’t much more than strangers themselves.

But they felt like more. Or at least, Remy thought they did. He felt as though he’d known Thomas for a lifetime, but also as if he could spend an entire lifetime learning more about him. It was crazy, but Remy had meant what he’d said earlier. He didn’t want this to be Thomas’ last party. And he really didn’t want it to be Thomas’ last party with him. But it was no use wishing for impossibilities. They only brought disappointment.

Luckily he’d cleared his moping face before Thomas got back, just as the next song started. Remy tried to ignore how breathless and flushed he looked.

“Having fun yet?” He asked.

Thomas giggled breathlessly and nodded. “I stepped on his toes a lot but Gregor said he didn’t mind. I don’t think I’m that good a dancer, though.”

“Bullshit, sweetheart.” Remy sniffed. “You just don’t have any experience, is all.”

Thomas shrugged. “It’s a little late to practice, isn’t it?”

“Nah. We just need…” Remy’s eyes landed on an empty balcony. “That! Let’s go over there and I’ll help you get some basic dance steps in so you don’t smush anyone else’s toes.”

Thomas scooped Remy up and they walked out onto the balcony. It was quieter there, though the music still filtered through the door. There was a stillness to it, half lit by the bustle of the room behind them and half lit by the stars above. It was just enough room for their own private dance floor before the ground ended, looking over an endless sea of multicolored roses as far as the eye could see. Fireflies danced among the petals sleepily, and the moon hung in the sky like the charm of a necklace.

Remy paused a moment after they reached it to just take in the sight before turning back to Thomas and gesturing to be put on the nearby railing.

“Okay,” He said, once all four feet were firmly stuck to the wide marble. “So to start, obvi there’s two people dancing. One of them, usually the one who asked to dance, is the lead, and the other is… the other one. So. The lead puts their hand on their partner’s waist, and the other puts their hand on the lead’s shoulder-”

“Like this?” Thomas asked playfully, putting a finger on Remy’s tiny shoulder.

Remy snorted. “Exactly. Pardon my manners for not reaching my tiny little hand all the way to your waist.”

“Well, maybe I just need to be closer.”

Thomas moved forward until Remy’s nose was practically at his chest. Remy could, plausibly, reach his waist now. But his thoughts were far more occupied with how close Thomas was and how much he’d love to nap on that chest of his.

He cleared his throat. “If you’re that close you won’t be able to get any moving done. Back up, dorkface.”

Thomas laughed and backed away enough for them to see each other, though he didn’t move his finger from Remy’s shoulder. Remy nodded, glad frogs couldn’t blush.

“Okay, now the next part is the actual dancing.” He said. “Usually you can just follow the lead, but a lotta times people will do that and then look at their feet the whole time. What you wanna do instead is look in their eyes and let them guide you around the floor.”

Thomas nodded and looked in Remy’s eyes. Remy had never noticed before what a startling shade of brown they were. They were the color of tree bark after a rainy day, of the wood floors of home that you couldn’t wait to see after a long journey. Remy gulped.

“Good job. Now we just…”

He started swaying slightly, Thomas following his movements. They stayed there, neither wanting to look away or move beyond their gentle swaying. It wasn’t quite dancing, since they weren’t really moving, but it was so close. So, so close.

The song gradually faded out, the next one fading in as the ball continued outside their little bubble of time. Remy coughed, breaking the spell. He shuffled away slightly, knocking Thomas’ finger off his shoulder.

“Good job.” He said quietly. “I think you’ve really mastered the concept, uh… Go find that Gregor dude and give it a second go. Tell him you figured out how to avoid his toes or whatever.”

“Remy…”

“Yes?”

Thomas faltered, outstretched hand falling limply to his side. “Nothing. Do you want to go back to the snack table?”

Remy shook his head. “I’m just gonna veg out here for a bit. It’s nice out.”

“Okay,” Thomas said quietly. “I’ll be back in a bit if you want.”

“Whatever.” Remy shrugged.

Thomas walked out and Remy took a shuddering breath. It was nice out, but it didn’t seem to glitter nearly as much as when he’d first come out here.

Whatever. At least out here he wasn’t at risk of getting stepped on by a clumsy dancer. He was pretty sure that would kill him at this size. He was really squishy. It was a lot better to be perched on someone’s shoulder than it was to be on the ground, hopping around. There was a lot less risk involved.

He shook his head. Whatever. Whatever! He was fine. It was fine. He was Remy Freaking Astook, he wasn’t going to spend a whole party wishing he was human just so he could dance. He wished he could process alcohol right now. Or at least hold a glass of champagne.

Song after song played in the ballroom behind him. Remy just stared out at the fireflies, wondering who in the world thought they resembled stars because that was completely nutty.

A soft lavender glow grabbed his attention. It was entering a clearing in the garden, moving slow but steady. Remy blinked, peering at it.

His heart dropped.

“Thomas.”

Without any further hesitation Remy lept onto a nearby tree branch and scrambled down. As soon as his feet brushed the ground he sprinted in the direction of the clearing. He thanked all the stars that whoever made the garden made it neat little rows instead of a maze.It made catching up to Thomas just a little bit easier.

He wasn’t gaining ground fast, but Thomas was easy to spot.

Remy found him within minutes, even though they felt like hours. His stomach sunk as a look confirmed Thomas’ hair and eyes were glowing again.

He hopped faster. Thomas had such a long stride. He cursed what he’d been thankful for before, as he had to take three leaps to match a single step.

He took a final, heroic leap towards the end of Thomas’ hair- and narrowly missed, skidding a little ways ahead of him. Thomas continued his endless march, oblivious to the frog in distress inches away from his feet.

“Thomas!” Remy called, despite knowing it wouldn’t work. “Please, you gotta wake up!”

Thomas kept walking, glowing eyes looking ahead at nothing.

Desperately, Remy launched out his tongue and wrapped it around Thomas’ ankle. This, it turned out, was a bad choice. He was yanked along by his tongue and flopping around while he frantically tried to right himself.

Eventually he managed to get his bearings and followed his tongue enough to cling to Thomas’ ankle with his feet instead. He started climbing, regretting every decision that led to this moment.

He stopped at Thomas’ shoulder blade, clinging with all his strength. Close enough. He slapped Thomas with his wet forefoot, rather than put his tongue through more stress. It worked, blessedly and thankfully. Thomas jumped, nearly knocking Remy off again, and wiped at his cheek in disgust.

“Why?” He cried. “Why on earth-”

He stopped, looking around. Probably for a clue about where the heck he was.

“Uh… Remy?”

Oh.

“Here,” Remy croaked tiredly.

Thomas twisted to look at him, eyes widening in alarm. As gently as he could with the awkward position, he pried Remy off. He cradled the frog in his hands and bit his lip.

“Are you okay?”

“‘M fine.” Remy wheezed. “Least I didn’t fall off a cliff this time.”

Thomas laughed a little hysterically and held Remy closer.

“Did it happen again?”

“Yeah, and, btw, you walk really fast.” Remy said. “Stop that.”

Thomas squeezed him carefully in a pseudo hug. “I wish I knew why this kept happening…”

Remy gently pat his chest, hoping this was how you comforted someone. Thomas’ panic was easy to understand. Heck, Remy had panicked and he’d assumed it was normal for him the first time! Glowing hair wasn’t exactly normal, but neither was purple hair. If they knew what was making it happen, maybe they could stop it…

Darkness covered them for a moment, then vanished, as if the moon blinked. Remy looked up at it, alarmed, to make sure that that hadn’t actually happened.

A shadow swept through the clouds, big and elegant. And powerful. A serpentine body with long bat’s wings, each the size of a banquet hall. A chill settled into Remy, making him feel like he’d been stripped to the bone and dunked back in that river.

He licked his lips and tried to speak. Nothing came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“I think I found your explanation.” He said, voice shaking.

“What?” “Mommy’s home.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll are gonna be so mad at me for this and I apologize.

_“Mommy’s home.”_

It couldn’t be anyone else. It made too much sense for that to be Thomas’ mom. The hair, his glowing eyes- the fact that there was a dragon in the sky and Thomas had called his mom a dragon witch! It all added up. Thomas’ mom was the one circling in the sky, getting closer and closer.

“Oh no.” Thomas said, which seemed like a good encapsulation of events. “Oh no, nononononono.”

His chest started heaving and Remy awkwardly pet his chest again. “It’s okay.” He muttered. “It’s okay, I won’t let her do anything.”

Thomas laughed hysterically. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. Remy knew how absurd the thought was. He was a very tiny frog and Thomas’ mom was currently a dragon half the size of the castle. Still, it helped Thomas get his breathing back under control.

At least until she landed directly the castle’s highest tower, the stone crumbling under her weight.

Thomas was hyperventilating again.

The two watched as the royal army advanced towards her, several firing arrows that glanced off her hide like minor annoyances. She roared loud enough that it rattled their bones, even from where they were in the garden, leagues away from where she was attacking. Fire streamed from her mouth, mowing down three rows of soldiers.

That was enough to send Thomas running. Not in opposite direction like a sensible person, no, of course not. This man, the bane of Remy’s existence, had to run  _towards_ the danger like some kind of noble  _idiot_!

“Thomas?” Remy asked, incredibly alarmed at the dragon they were headed towards. “What are you doing?”

“She wants me!” Thomas panted. “I can’t just sit by and let her kill innocent people to get me! She can have me, no one has to get hurt!”

“Babe, I can’t stress enough what a bad idea that is!” Remy exclaimed. “Even if she gets you, what’s gonna stop her from attacking everyone anyways? Or hurting you after?”

“I have to try! Even if it only saves one person, I have to try! I’m not worth all these people’s deaths!”

 _“Like hell you aren’t!”_  Remy snapped.

Thomas stopped in his tracks, looking down at him in shock. Remy honestly had no idea where the sudden spike of white hot anger and desperation had come from, but he wasn’t about to let go of it if that meant Thomas wasn’t rushing headlong into danger.

“Don’t you dare ever insinuate your life is worth less, or so help me I will smack you so hard your grandchildren’s ears will ring,” Remy growled. “Now sit your tush in that grass and don’t move an inch until we come up with a better plan than you running right up to her like a self-sacrificing idiot!”

Thomas shook his head woodenly, looking back up at the battle before them. “But what?” He asked, voice broken and cracking. “What could we possibly do beyond that?”

“Well for starters you could help me find a lily-rooted worm.”

Both of them jumped at the sudden voice behind them. Thomas whirled. The voice had come from a guy with big purple wings emanating purple light, who was digging in the dirt frantically as if it held the secrets to life itself.

“What in the name of tea is a lily-rooted worm?” Remy asked.

The guy on the ground glanced up at him. “Oh, hey Remy.”

_“Who are you?”_

“To answer your question,” The guy continued, ignoring Remy’s other, perfectly reasonable question. “Lily-rooted worms are worms that cluster around lilies. Very rare and also the final ingredient to lay a spell on the stupid, idiot Prince’s sword so that we don’t all die!”

Remy hopped down from Thomas’ grasp and started helping him look. Thomas hesitated.

“Is it going to hurt her?” He asked, voice so small it was almost inaudible over the clamour of metal against scales.

The worm guy shrugged. “Most likely?”

Remy stopped then, looking between the worm guy, Thomas’ wide eyes, and the massive dragon on the castle.

He shook his head. “Then we can’t do it.”

Worm guy looked up at him, startled. “What?”

“We can’t do it.” Remy repeated. “That ain’t your everyday dragon, sweetheart, that’s Thoma-llamathy’s mom. We can’t just kill her like that.”

The worm guy blinked, looked over at Thomas, then the dragon, then back at Remy.

“I get where you’re coming from, I really do.” He said slowly. “But she’s already taken down half the royal guard, and none of my non-lethal options will work on a dragon. Even my best sleeping powder will only work for a few seconds. Our best shot is Roman’s sword.”

A strangled cry escaped from Thomas’ mouth and he pressed a hand over it. Tears were pooling in his eyes, threatening to spill out within seconds. The sight made Remy’s heart lurch.

“There’s gotta be another option.” He said with a scowl.

He clicked his overly long tongue, thinking hard. He looked over at the attacking dragon, hoping desperately for some bolt of inspiration. Another arrow struck her on the side of the head, but she didn’t even glance at the impact. She didn’t even look at the one who’d fired, as if she hadn’t even felt something hit her.

Which gave Remy a really, really, really stupid idea.

“Throw me at her.” He said. “I’m not much bigger than those arrows, right? So if I get sent up there, at her head, with a bag of that powdery knockout stuff, then everyone will have enough time to tie her down or something. Muzzle and lock her up, before she wakes up, you know?”

“Now who’s being self sacrificial?” Thomas yelped.

The worm guy ignored that in favor of staring a Remy, a weird look in his purple-gray eyes.

“That could work.”

“No! Don’t encourage this! What if he gets hurt?”

Remy gave him a small grin, pouring all his leftover fake bravado into it. “It’s better than our other options, babe. It’s worth the risk, Thomas.”

Thomas let out another strangled noise halfway between a whine and a sob, and scooped Remy into his arms for a hug. After they’d pulled away, the worm guy gently took Remy from Thomas and tied a small sack around his neck.

“This has the powder in it.” He instructed. “There’s more in there than it looks like, I promise. Once you get up there, you’ll need to blow it into one of her eyes. It’s gonna be a rocky ride, so grip as hard as you can. I’ll make sure the archers don’t aim for her head. Um… Hold on tight and-”

“Dude.” Remy said, voice steadier than he felt. “I got this.”

The worm guy swallowed and nodded with a tight smile. “You ready?”

“Wait!”

Thomas took Remy back for one last hug.

“Be safe,” He whispered.

Remy chuckled wryly. “C’mon, when have I ever been anything but safe?”

Thomas exhaled a teary laugh. “I’ve never once known you to be safe, Mr. Rat-In-The-Cookie-Jar.”

Remy shrugged. “First time for everything.”

“There better be.” Thomas reluctantly dropped him back into the fairy’s hands and Remy nodded up at him.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay,” The worm guy said. “Hold on.”

He reared back his arm, and threw Remy with all his might. If there’d been a doubt before that this guy was fae, Remy certainly didn’t have one now. They’d been a mile away from the battle at least. A castle’s width of distance between the three of them and the massive dragon. But after he was hurled from the worm guy’s grasp, he kept flying, faster and farther than anything but magic could have sent him. Closer and closer to the dragon witch herself until he could see each individual scale.

He landed against her cheekbone and Remy swore he heard something in his chest crack. As much as he would have loved to complain about it, though, his current situation was the definition of not having any time.

He was suddenly glad he wasn’t human, since holding on would have been a lot more difficult without his sticky fingers, let alone crawling up to her eye! It was slow going still. He had to fight for every inch, and each moment ticked in his head, reminding him of the growing death count below. It didn’t help that every roar and blast of fire made her move enough that he had to pause and hold on for dear life. His heart beat in a frantic staccato, missing a beat every so often and getting faster by the second.

He was so focused on not falling that he almost stepped on her eye before he realized that he’d reached it. The moment he did, her big green iris swiveled to look at him and she snarled.

The fairy dude had said to blow the powder into her eyes.

Remy really hoped that panicking and flinging the whole sack at her would do the same job.

Either way, she roared. Hopefully that was a good sign. What wasn’t a good sign was her shaking her head so hard that Remy lost his grip.

He went sailing off her, flung away as she scrambled to get the powder out of her eye. He didn’t see her slowly succumbing to the sleep spell.

All he could see was the rapidly approaching ground.

He was falling. Falling. Falling.

***

Thomas’ eyes were so trained on Remy’s small, green body, that he almost didn’t notice his mother starting to crash to the ground. His only thoughts were of the frog who was quickly racing to meet the earth below. The fairy next to him flung out his arms, a bright beam of purple light shooting from them and grabbing Remy out of midair. It sped back just as quick as it left and gently put Remy in Thomas’ hands.

Remy looked around dazedly, eyes foggy.

“D-did we win yet?” He asked after a moment.

Thomas let out a wet laugh. “Give me a minute and maybe I’ll know.”

The earth shook with a crash.

All three looked over to the battlefield to see Thomas’ mother on the ground, rapidly being tied down. “Oh good.” Remy said. “That worked.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” The fairy said darkly. “All that still needs to hold her.”

They watched, anxiously. Sure enough, Thomas’ mother started thrashing as she awoke.

 _ **“Fools!”**_ She screamed, voice so loud that Thomas felt his soul quake.  ** _“Sons of mere mortal men! You dare to think that you can hold me down? I will take pleasure in ripping out every one of your bones from your bodies! Justice will be served and my vengeance will be great!”_**

Thomas trembled. He held Remy in his hands more securely, desperately hoping for some scrap of comfort as they watched the terror unfold. He manically thought that his mother looked the same as always, her features stretched over a dragon’s. He half expected to hear her to turn towards him, screaming another lecture on whatever wrong-doing he’d recently committed.

She looked like a monster.

The fairy next to him went stiff. “No. Nonononono! You idiot, what are you doing?”

Thomas started to tell him that he was panicking, thank you, before his eyes landed on who the fairy was actually talking to.

A small figure was approaching the dragon, apparently saying something outside their range of hearing. Whatever it was made his mother laugh.

_**“You. Are the greatest fool of all.”** _

She lunged forward, jaws widening. The figure scrambled back, drawing the sword at their waist. At the same time, the fairy cast another bolt of light towards them, making the sword glow just as it made impact with the roof of the dragon’s mouth.

She howled, the sound, composed of nightmares, tore into Thomas’ ears. The purple light cracked through her, starting at the sword and spreading until she was covered in bright purple cracks from tail to tip. The light grew brighter and brighter until Thomas might as well have been looking at the sun.

He didn’t dare turn away, though. Not even when the light went out, as if some giant had snuffed a candle.

His mother was gone. Bits of ash twirled through the air where she had been, the only trace she had even been there at all.

No one cheered. At least not that Thomas heard. He couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears. He was an orphan now… wasn’t he? His mother hadn’t always been great, sure… but she’d been family. And now… he had no one. No one at all.

The fairy collapsed, bringing Thomas’ attention sharply back into focus. He dropped to his knees, worriedly feeling for a pulse.

“He’s probably o-okay.” Remy said. “P-probably just overextended himself or something. That looked like a lot of magic just now. Ca-can’t be healthy.”

Thomas turned his attention to Remy, brow creasing. He didn’t like the way Remy sounded. He’d been cradled in Thomas’ hands for what must have been five minutes now, how was he still out of breath?“Are you okay?” He asked.

Remy gave him a crooked grin. “Sure I-”

Without warning, he coughed, sides heaving and blood projected from his mouth onto Thomas’ hand. Thomas felt his eyes go wide with horror.

“On s-second thought,” Remy said, taking in a shaky breath. “Maybe not.”

“What’s wrong, what happened?”

Remy groaned. “If I had to g-guess, I’d say whate-ever cracked when I h-hit her was imp-portant.”

“N-No!” Thomas exclaimed. “There must be something we can do! Mr. Fairy? Mr. Fairy!” He shook the fairy by the shoulder as hard as he could, probably leaving a bruise, if he was honest, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Thomas,” Remy said softly. “S-stop. It’s okay.” Thomas’ body shook, and he stopped. He stroked Remy gingerly and bit his trembling lip.

“Please,” He whispered desperately. “Don’t just go. Don’t leave me.”

Remy chuckled weakly. “Don’t think I’ve got much of a choice in the matter, babe.”

Thomas shook his head. “No. No way. You’re Remy Astook, sassiest rat-frog-man on the planet. You’re gonna look that reaper in the eye and tell him ‘later,’ and then you’re gonna come back and open that tea shop we talked about. Okay? You’re not dying on me, Remy. You’re not. It’s- It’s not allowed.”

“Okay,” Remy said, smile growing fainter. “Okay, Mr. Shut-In.”

He took a deep breath, wincing as he exhaled.

“Do… do me one favor in return, though?”

Thomas nodded. “Anything.”

“T-Tell my brothers that I’m sorry. E-everything about growing up sucked and I only made it worse an-and I need them t-to know. Pl-please.”

Thomas smiled and shushed him gently. “Okay. I- I’ll do that. But you’re going to do it yourself right after, okay? You’re gonna do that, Remy.”

Remy hummed. “Sure.”

“Yes I am.” Thomas joked hysterically. “I’m so sure I’m certain.”

Remy smiled up at him, the expression thin and waning. “You know,” He said softly. “I think I might have loved you a little bit.”

His eyes slid closed. His chest stopped moving.

He was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Thomas wanted to scream, to wail, to curse the injustice of it all. But he didn’t. His tears fell silent as he clutched Remy’s small, broken body as close as he could. 

And when his tears ran out, he pulled away, just a little. Just far enough to place a small kiss between Remy’s eyes.

“I love you too,” He whispered.

He shakily put Remy on a small, raised dias nearby and rose.

He didn’t care what happened in the past, Thomas was going to find the Prince Consort and his and Remy’s other brother, and deliver Remy’s apology, and demand… something. A hero’s funeral, maybe. Remy certainly deserved one, but Thomas wasn’t sure if he was ready to ask for something like that yet.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, running through the exercise Remy taught him. Was that really only earlier that night? It felt like lifetimes ago.

It didn’t matter if he was ready or not. A hero’s funeral was what Remy deserved and Thomas was going to make sure he got it.

He opened his eyes, then abruptly scrambled backwards.

Did dead frogs always explode into bright light?

Thomas didn’t think so, but he hadn’t seen enough of them to say differently. Remy certainly was, though. In the short time Thomas’ eyes had been closed, Remy had circumnavigated “glowing,” and jumped straight into utter brilliance pouring out of every inch of his body. It hurt to look at. Thomas shielded his face and shut his eyes as the light grew brighter and brighter.

Until, all at once, it faded. Thomas dropped his hand and looked back at where Remy had been.

He did a double-take.

Where the frog had been now lay a man roughly Thomas’ age. His hair was short and soft-looking, the same color Remy’s fur had been when they first met, and mussed by the grass beneath him.

Thomas trembled and carefully reached out to poke the man in the shoulder. He groaned and Thomas quickly withdrew his hand.

The man cracked one eye open, looking over at Thomas.

“See?” He croaked. “Told ya I was handsome.”

“Remy!” Thomas exclaimed. “You- Is that actually you?”

“Unless my body’s been possessed, which, you know, would really be the cherry on top of this entire week.”

A laugh exploded out of Thomas and he catapulted himself on top of Remy, wrapping him in the first real and proper hug the two of them had ever had.

“Little warning next time, Thoma-llama-thy.” Remy grunted.

“Shut up.” Thomas said. “Shut up, no more talking ever.”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” Remy smirked. “You couldn’t get me to be quiet if you wanted. This mouth don’t stop for anything, I’d think you would know that by now.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“I’d put money on it.”

Thomas smirked and pressed his lips against Remy’s. His lips were cool, and a little chapped. But they were perfect and somehow wholly Remy.

Thomas pulled away with a smile, giggling at Remy’s wide eyes and slack jaw. “Pay up, froggy.”

Remy blinked, then snorted. “I’m a little short on green right now,” He said, wrapping his arms more securely around Thomas. “Mind if I just pay you back later?”

“Hard sell, that.” Thomas hummed. “But I guess it’ll have to work.”

“Good. I’ll make sure there’s interest, no worries.”

Thomas smiled and tucked his head under Remy’s chin. He’d imagined Remy’s human form a few more times than he’d like to admit, but he’s always imagined the other as being smaller than him. Something to do with how angry Remy was, maybe. He was happy that this wasn’t the case. Remy was at least a head taller than him, making Thomas able to slot perfectly against him. He decided it was his new favorite spot.

Remy suddenly jolted under him with a yelp. They rolled onto their sides and Thomas looked up at Remy. He was looking up, making Thomas follow his gaze. Standing over them, with tear-filled eyes, was a man with the same cheekbones and hair as Remy. He looked more than a little upset.

Remy licked his lips. “Geez, Lo. Did you really have to kick me?”

“Lo” made a knocking motion with his hand, them moved both hands rapidly in a way Thomas could neither comprehend or follow. Remy seemed to, though, if his wince was anything to go by.

“I know,” He said. “I know, I’m sorry.”

This made Lo pause. He squinted at Remy and made another series of gestures.

Remy laughed. He gently pried himself away from Thomas and rose to his feet.

“Let’s just say I had a long week,” he said, gesturing along with his words. “Like, the longest one ever. I’m talking full out grand adventure, Lo. You’re gonna have to be sitting down when I tell you the whole story.”

Lo rolled his eyes, knocking a few tears out of his eyes with the motion. He gestured at Remy again.

“What, were you worried about me?” Remy asked teasingly.

Lo made the knocking motion again and Remy softened. He gently wrapped his arms around Lo and held him for a few moments. Remy eventually let him go and looked Lo in the face.

“I’m sorry,” He said, still gesturing with one hand and holding Lo with the other. “For everything. Honest, Lo, I’m sorry for every single thing. I- I spent half our lives messing up and I only just realized. You don’t have to forgive me, but I hope…”He trailed off and Lo rolled his eyes again with a huff. He gestured again and tugged Remy into a tight hug.

Thomas had no idea what had just happened, but it seemed good.

They pulled away, gingerly and reluctant. Remy clapped Lo on the shoulder before turning to help Thomas up off the ground.

“So…” Remy said slowly. “Does this make us boyfriends? Or do you just kiss all your besties?”

Thomas hummed. “Hard to say. I am a shut-in after all. I’ve only ever had the one friend.”

Remy chuckled. “Well at least I’m higher than everyone else.”

Thomas nodded. “True, true. Though if I’m being honest, I’d like to be your boyfriend.”

Remy softened again and laced his fingers through Thomas’. “I’d like that, too.”

“Oh my stars! Is Virgil okay?” A voice exclaimed.

Thomas and Remy turned just in time to see another man join Lo at the fairy’s side, back to them. He worriedly made a few motions in the air, which Lo calmly returned. The man relaxed and motioned again. Lo patted his back before gesturing behind the man pointedly.

He turned and Thomas was startled to find himself looking back at his own face! Well, his face if he’d spent more time in the sun and exercising. There was also a beauty mark just over this stranger’s left cheek. But there was no denying that those were Thomas’ eyes.

The stranger, at least, seemed equally as alarmed at this, so Thomas could be sure this wasn’t some plot to steal his identity or something. He calmly turned back to Lo.

“Logan?” He said. “What the heck?”

Lo- or Logan?- shrugged, eyes wide and pointed at Remy. The stranger followed his finger, blinking when he landed on the other half of the pair.

“Well, well,” He said, voice low and hard to read. “Mr. Astook? Would you please explain why it seems like you’ve found my dead twin?”

Remy jolted and looked between Thomas and the man who shared his face. His mouth opened and closed with every turn between the two of them.

“Um,” He said, voice a bit higher than normal. “I wish I could, your Highness. But I honestly didn’t notice until now?”


	10. Chapter 10

The sun filtered through the trees, casting perfect branches of light onto a young woman. She flipped the page of her book, studiously ignoring the rustling bushes not a foot away from her picnic spot. A black blur sped out of them, tackling her to the ground and knocking her tiara askew. She let out an indignant gasp and pried herself away, straightening the glittering jewelry which marked her as Queen.

“Dorothy!” She scolded. “Be more careful, I can’t lose this!”

Dorothy withdrew with a low chuckle. “You should, though. I think you look prettier without it.”

She rolled her eyes and pecked Dorothy’s cheek. “Whether I look prettier or not, I can’t be seen without it or I’ll get in trouble.”

Dorothy pouted and rolled onto her back, green eyes glittering with mischief. “You can’t be seen with a fae, either. So maybe when we’re together you could leave it off? Please, Ezzy? For me?”

Esmeralda sighed and carefully removed her crown, placing it in the nearby picnic basket. 

“Only for you, you silly lizard.”

***

“I don’t understand why you and the King have to be married.” Dorothy sighed, leaning into the hand running through her hair. “Like, I do, but I don’t.”

Esmeralda shrugged, carefully avoiding Dorothy’s horns as she stroked. “Duty, I suppose. Or tradition. Our parents selected us for each other at birth, just as they were for each other, and their parents before them. It’s just the way these things work.”

“But you don’t love him?”

Esmeralda smiled and placed a kiss between Dorothy’s furrowed eyebrows. They smoothed out and the witch relaxed minisculely.“How could I fall in love with a king, when there is such beauty offered to me?” She whispered. “The King looks like a musty old tapestry, when my love is a beauty carved from marble, a testament to strength and form, modeled after a goddess herself.”

Dorothy’s face flushed green. “Alright, alright! I’ll stop being jealous! Goodness, you and your way with words are going to slay me one day!”

Dorothy rose and turned to put their lips together, feeling Esmeralda smile into the kiss. She withdrew partially, enough to look into her love’s eyes.“I can not think of a better way to die.”

Esmeralda recaptured her lips. After a few more breathtaking moments, they pulled away again, and she enjoyed the sight of her lover’s slitted pupils blown wide with love. 

“Run away with me?” Dorothy breathed.

Esmeralda smiled. “Perhaps one day.”

***

“I’m pregnant.”

The words dropped through the air like a stone, pitching the cool August air into a freezing temperature that left gooseflesh on Dorothy’s skin. Her head shook almost before she was aware of it.

“You- you can’t be…”

Esmeralda winced and placed a hand over her stomach. “I… I have been showing signs for a while, but the king ordered over a physician this morning. He confirmed it. The news will spread soon, but I… I wanted to tell you myself.”

Dorothy swallowed hard, trying to wrap her head around the information. “But… I- He didn’t force you, did he?”

Esmeralda blinked once, before shaking her head. “No! No, of course not. We agreed to try until an heir was produced. The king and I do not need each other for pleasure.”

Dorothy nodded shakily. “Well… what does it matter then? Can- Can’t we still see one another? This changes nothing but a mere nine months, Ezzy.” She crossed to her love and took her hands, gently kissing each finger before continuing. “All this means is that your duties have expanded. There will be someone else vying for your attention, but in this case I don’t care. Your child will be my child, my love. I do not care who sired them. I love you, and my love can expand.”

Esmeralda bit her lip and extracted her hands from Dorothy’s grasp.

“I can’t.”

Dorothy blinked. “What?”

“I- I can’t do that.” Esmeralda looked at the ground, eyes filling with tears. “It’s a small miracle that I got away tonight, over time my movements will only become more and more watched until the child is born. And after…” She shook her head forcefully. “I will not leave that… that swine to raise my child by himself. Who knows what thoughts he will put in their head? Being there for them means that I must give up my own desires, however much I wish it didn’t.”

Dorothy felt as though ice had been poured down her back. “You didn’t just come to tell me you’re pregnant, did you?”

Esmeralda took in a shaking breath and shook her head. “No. I… I came to see you for one last time. To tell you I love you. And goodbye.”

“Liar!” Dorothy hissed. “Love finds its way around such tangled messes, is it not you yourself who told me that?”

Esmeralda reached for Dorothy’s face, only to have her hand knocked away. Tears spilled over her cheeks.

“I did.” She said mournfully. “But I can’t do anything else! I cannot leave my child with that man, and I cannot leave my kingdom without an heir! I must place duty before desire, but never- never, make the mistake of thinking that means I don’t love you!”

Dorothy softened, her expression growing mournful. She cupped Esmeralda’s face with her hands and wiped away a tear. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, my love.” Dorothy whispered. “It is I who should apologize, I had no reason to yell like that.”

Esmeralda sniffled and wrapped her arms around Dorothy, burying her face in her beloved’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you fervently.” She whispered. “Not a day shall pass without me wanting you at my side.”

“And I you,” Dorothy said.

She ran a hand through Esmeralda’s hair, fingers knocking against the crown atop her head. She bitterly thought of how poetic it was that the crown should block her so.

“I promise you this, though,” She said. “Your child will always have a home with me, should they need one.”

Esmeralda squeezed her tightly before bringing her in for one last kiss. A thank you. A declaration of love, both past and present. A goodbye. 

***

Nine and a half months later, news spread that the queen had given birth. Nine and a half months later, news spread that the queen had had twins. Nine and a half months later, news spread that the queen had died in childbirth. Nine and a half months later, Dorothy snuck into the castle and stole the oldest twin from where he lay. 

Nine and a half months later, the dragon witch took the child that was rightfully hers and stole him away from the world. Ten months later, news spread that the elder twin had followed his mother to the grave. 

Thirty years and nine and a half months later, Prince Roman closed his mother’s diary, having read her confessions aloud to the twin brother he didn’t know had survived. 

Thomas felt a numb sort of shock, staring at the leather bound book. He’d known his mo- the dragon witch was lying whenever she talked about his family, but he never thought it was quite so personal.

“Well,” Roman sighed. “That was certainly… something.”

Thomas reached over and ran a trembling finger over the diary’s spine. “Where did you even find this? I mean, if it was just in the library or something, someone would have found it before. You would have known…”

Roman shrugged. “When the wi- your mother landed on that tower it revealed a secret chamber, which led to a secret tunnel. It’s probably how she got out so often to meet Dorothy.”

Thomas nodded absently. “Right. …Who’d’a thunk, huh? Me, a prince.”

Roman’s eyes softened and he gently grasped Thomas’ hand. “A brother.” He corrected. “Family, first and foremost. Especially since my- our- the king was in that tower as well. We’re all we have now.”

Thomas ran his free hand down his face. “Oh my goodness gracious.”

“You okay?” 

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a lot to take in, is all. I mean, just last night my best friend was a frog and my mother was a dragon. Now- and it’s not even three o’clock yet!- I find out that I’m some kind of long lost prince whose mother was in love with a dragon witch, who, in turn, sought revenge of some kind and decided to steal me?” His voice got higher and higher as he spoke. “It’s just… a lot.”He put his head on the table and groaned. “One of those things I maybe could have handled, but together? Would it be too much to ask for something normal to happen in our family?”

Roman snorted. “I mean, everytime I try to make things normal, something happens to uproot all my progress. But if you need to, I’ll understand if you screech dramatically.”

Thomas groaned instead. He lifted his head and faced Roman, biting his lip.

“So I guess the million dollar question is… what now?” He asked.

Roman sighed heavily, eyes landing on their mother’s diary before turning back to Thomas. 

“In technicality, you were born first,” He said carefully. “By all rights that makes you the heir to the throne.”

Thomas’ eyes widened and he started to shake his head when Roman held up a hand. His twin gave him a bemused look.

“However,” He continued. “Seeing as you were only found yesterday, you have no training or any reasoning for being king beyond birthright. Meaning that we’ll have to sign documents stating that you revoke it and pass it along to me, marking me as the Crown Prince, and you as simply a prince. You can still live here, if you wish, or you can go where you please, but the palace will always be open to you.” Roman sighed.“That’s all politics, though.” He said, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what has to happen on paper, according to someone who died a hundred generations ago. On a personal and more selfish level? I’d like to get to know my brother. I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want, but…”

Thomas nodded with a small smile. “I get it. I thought it was just me, too. Well, me and my mother.”

“Me and my father.” Roman mused. “We’re all just broken people in the end, aren’t we? Trying to find new ways to stitch ourselves back together.”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “If you’re going to try speaking poetically like that all the time, maybe I should go somewhere else.”

Roman barked out a laugh. “Too late! No take backs!”

“Well I never actually said it.”

“Ah, but you implied it! That’s close enough!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

Roman blinked. “Wait.”

Thomas laughed. “Gotcha!”

Roman scowled playfully and stuck his tongue out at Thomas. “Well fine then! I guess I don’t want you around here anyway, if you’re going to act like that!”

Thomas chuckled and grabbed their mother’s diary, flipping through it casually, as if the words hadn’t turned his whole world upside down. “Probably just as well. I don’t think I’m much of a ‘Paris’ anyway.”

“Oh you think that’s bad?” Roman asked with a wolfish grin. “My full name is fifteen words long. I’ll bet yours is just as bad.”

Thomas’ face paled. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes!” Roman crowed. “Roman Christopher Windermere Valdimir Carl Alexander Francois Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James! All we have to do is find the royal lineage for yours.”

“Roman no!” 

Roman sprinted away from the table, heading towards a far-off shelf. Thomas gave chase as best he could, but it was clear he wasn’t as athletic as his twin brother. Roman easily left him in the dust, cackling. 

“Roman yes!”

When Thomas finally caught up to him, Roman was flipping through a thick book mounted on a pedestal. He half-heartedly tried to tug him away but truth be told he was a little curious himself.

“Here it is!” Roman exclaimed. “Queen Esmeralda Isabel Marie Louise Contessa Elizabeth James gave birth to twins Roman Christopher Windermere Valdimir Carl Alexander Francois Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James and his elder brother Paris Everest Humphrey Clement Robin Nicholas Samson Melvis Stephen Ellis Harold James!” Roman howled with laughter. “Oh my- that’s even worse!”

Thomas frowned, running a hand over the names. “Yeah, well at least mine has actual names in it. Have you ever met anyone named ‘Windermere?’”

“No,” Roman admitted. “But I’ve never met a ‘Melvis’ either.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Well then it’s a good thing my name is just Thomas, huh?”

“Not on legal documents!” Roman taunted playfully. “The law will always recognize you as Paris Everest Humphrey Clement James!”

Thomas poked Roman in the side. “Whatever. I don’t need another identity crisis today.”

Roman’s laughter faded a little and he tugged Thomas into a tentative side hug. 

“Well, lucky you’ve got me to help you through this one, huh?” He asked, a tinge of hope audible in his voice.

Thomas smiled and wrapped his arms around Roman, pulling him into a proper hug.“Yeah. And probably the next one too.”

***

“You should have said something,” Patton scolded lightly. “We were worried half out of our minds over you.”

Remy shrugged. “Sorry?”

“Stop saying that,” Logan said with an eye roll. “The apology you gave us earlier was more than sufficient. What we need now is an explanation for why you didn’t tell Patton you were the frog Thomas brought in.”

Remy shrugged again, looking at the nearby roses instead of either of his brothers. “Dunno. Guess I didn’t think you two would want to see me after everything that went down.”

“Of course we’d want to see you,” Patton said. “Especially if you were in trouble. We love you, Remy. And we forgive you.”Patton gave him a small hug. 

Remy pat his hand a little, but shrugged out of it. “Not sure if I deserve that yet, but thanks.”

“No one does.” Logan said, pulling Remy’s attention back to his hands. “It isn’t a question of whether or not someone deserves forgiveness, but whether they can work towards earning it after they receive it that determines their worth. We have offered you our forgiveness, if you truly feel remorseful, then it is your responsibility to be someone who you feel deserves it.”

Remy let out a small laugh. “See, this is why I need you guys. You’re big smart brains make up for all my dumb stuff.”

“You’re not dumb, Remy.” Patton said. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remy said, waving a hand. “Still, I’m glad we worked all this out, or whatever.”

“Me too.” Logan said.

“Me three.” Patton smiled a little. “I hope you stick around, too. I know how awful that house can be, I can’t imagine what it must be like with just you and Damon there.”

Remy frowned. “It’s pretty awful, tbh. But I don’t think I’ll be going back. Don’t know if that means I’m staying, either, though.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

At that moment, Roman and Thomas walked into the garden clearing. They were laughing at something, the sight borderline breathtaking. Sometime between all the heavy talk Thomas had gotten a haircut, the usual purple color fading to something between lilac and chocolate brown. It still hung in his face, bangs as intent on tickling his nose as they’d ever been, but the new look suited him. He looked less like a sheltered shut-in and more like Thomas. 

“Ah,” Patton said, eyes glittering playfully. “I see.”

“You don’t see nothing.” Remy said. “Now excuse me, I’ve got a prince to woo.”

He left his smirking brothers and walked over to Thomas. He bowed jokingly, and Thomas groaned.

“Not you too,” He said. “It’s bad enough that everyone else is bowing to me.”

“Can’t help it!” Remy said, springing back up. “I see a man this gorgeous and I have to let him know he’s top dog, dawg.”

Prince Roman chuckled a little. “I’ll leave you two be. Thomas, can we talk more later?”

Thomas nodded. “Sure. We’ve got a lifetime to catch up on,” He grinned.

Roman smiled and went to join Patton and Logan at the gazebo. Leaving Remy and Thomas by themselves. Remy smirked and twined Thomas’ hand with his. 

“So,” He said. “Seems like you’re not such a shut-in after all. A bonafide prince.”

Thomas snorted. “I think I’m both, honestly. I feel more like a shut-in than royalty.”

Remy kissed Thomas’ temple. “Well that’s what I’m here for. I’ll give you lessons, if you want ‘em. And if you don’t I’ll just punch anyone who makes snide comments.” 

Thomas laughed. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I appreciate the thought, though. froggy.”

Remy threw up his hands. “OMG! You turn into a frog for a few days and suddenly no one wants you to live it down! I mean honestly, you get cursed once and everyone gives you crap over it!”

Thomas giggled and wrapped Remy in a tight hug. “Well get used to it, sucker, cause I’m gonna be giving you crap for the rest of our lives.”

Remy softened and returned the hug. “Okay, fine. But only if I can give you crap, too.”

“Nope, sorry.” Thomas hummed. “Not allowed. It’s illegal to give the prince crap.”

“Wow.” Remy deadpanned. “Double standard much, sweetie? Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you?”

Thomas shook his head, burrowing deeper into Remy’s chest. “Just be here. That’s all. Don’t ever scare me like that again and we’ll call it even.”

Remy huffed. “No promises, babe.”

Thomas frowned and looked up at him. Remy rolled his eyes and relented.“Okay, okay! I promise I won’t die again. That work?”

“Sounds perfect.” Thomas said, snuggling back into Remy.

Remy smiled and put his head on top of Thomas’. The two stood there a moment, gently swaying in the warm breeze. 

“So what’s the plan?” Remy asked softly. “Are we gonna stay here or open up that tea shop?”

“I don’t think princes can open tea shops.” Thomas muttered. 

“Eh, who says?” Remy shrugged. “‘Sides, it’s not like I’ve let rules like that stop me before.”

“True.” Thomas laughed. “Though you’d think being turned into a rat would teach you to keep your nose in your own business.”

“It only made me stronger,” Remy said seriously, before dissolving into laughter a moment later. “Nah. But seriously Thomathy… we got a plan?”

Thomas thought for a moment, and Remy followed his gaze to Roman. The prince was happily pushing his husband on a nearby swing, Patton’s face brighter and happier than Remy could ever remember seeing it. Logan stood nearby, content to watch them. Remy and Thomas looked on as Logan’s fairy boyfriend melted out of the bushes and wrapped Logan in a hug. Even from where they were, Remy could see Logan scolding his boyfriend for being out of bed when he’d been told to rest. 

“I think I want to stay,” Thomas whispered. “My mother’s gone now. And even when she was here, she wasn’t much of a family. I think I wanna stay and give brotherhood a shot.”

“Right there with you, boo.” Remy said. “Glad we’re on the same page, here, I’d hate to have our first fight so early in the relationship.”

Thomas snorted and looked back at Remy. “It would not be our first fight. And who says we’re in a relationship?”

Remy clutched at his heart and gasped. “If you don’t recall, I made a very moving declaration of love on my deathbed! And since then, you’ve kissed me a grand total of three times! If we’re not in a relationship, then I want a refund, honey.” 

Thomas grinned. “Alright, alright. …Wanna make it a grand total of four times?”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Hon, you’re about as smooth as water on a stormy night. You gotta do it like this.”

Remy snagged Thomas’ hand and twirled him, coming to a stop just outside the garden’s clearing, where no one else could see them. He dipped Thomas, low and smooth, locking their eyes.

“I would gladly spend a lifetime giving you a million kisses.” Remy said, voice low.

It had the desired effect. Thomas’ whole face went pink and he cleared his throat forcefully. 

“Uh, s-same.” He stuttered. 

Remy smirked and set Thomas back on his own feet. “No worries. I’ll help you work on that, too.”

“Promise?” Thomas asked, smiling shyly.

“Promise.”

Thomas lifted his head, pressing his and Remy’s lips together. Remy smiled into the kiss, wishing he could capture the feeling of his lips against Thomas’ in a bottle. He’d make a fortune if he sold it; feelings like this had to have been made in heaven itself.

He pulled away, drinking in the sight of Thomas. Plain, simple, and beautiful Thomas. Thomas, who owned his entire heart. 

“I love you.” Remy whispered.

“I love you, too.” Thomas smiled.


End file.
